


Zhia Pt. 4 Untraditional Traditional Marriages

by fromGallifreytoGallitep (sykira)



Series: Zhia’kala Tar’eh arranged marriage [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Episode Remix, Episode: s01e15 Progress, Episode: s01e16 If Wishes Were Horses, Episode: s01e17 The Forsaken, F/M, Forced Marriage, Past Rape/Non-con, kirashir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sykira/pseuds/fromGallifreytoGallitep
Summary: Part of a re-imagining of the series in which Sisko's role is more than the Federation's representative: as emissary he is selected to seal the relationship between Bajor and the Federation by entering into an arranged marriage with Kira per Bajoran tradition and prophecy.This section goes up to the end of S1 ep 14 The Storyteller
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Kira Nerys, Kira Nerys/Benjamin Sisko
Series: Zhia’kala Tar’eh arranged marriage [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560253
Comments: 20
Kudos: 28





	1. The Proposal

Kira got as far as the infirmary door before she stopped in her tracks. She could see Julian at the back by the lab benches, intently focused on tubes and petri dishes of something, talking animatedly with his medical staff.

She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the sound of his voice alone was so familiar, so comforting—and yet paradoxically filled her with dread. They were friends. Good friends maybe—and somewhere in the short time they had all been on the station he had come to mean so much to her. What if this ruined that friendship irrevocably?

While Julian wanted to be more than that with their mutual dear friend, Jadzia, he most definitely had no leanings of that kind for her. And she couldn’t blame him—what young hot-shot Federation doctor, fresh out of medical school with a promising career ahead of him would want to be married off against his will to some neurotic half-feral resistance fighter? He would become a political pawn just like she was, in some antiquated religious ritual that he and the other Starfleet officers probably chuckled about when there was no Bajoran around to hear them.

Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she looked at the ground. She almost turned on her heel and fled.

“Major! How are you?” Julian’s bright and cheerful demeanor made her heart sink. 

A frown formed on his face when she didn’t answer him, just stood there, paralyzed now that he was crossing the infirmary, his hands still full of chemicals in tubes. He caught himself abruptly, and spun around, handing the vials unceremoniously to one of his staff without giving them a second glance, then peeling off his gloves and discarding them. “Nurse, would you give us the room?”

“Of course, doctor.” The young Bajoran nodded respectfully to Kira, casting her eyes down as she scooped up the lab equipment and hurried out of the room, ushering along the lab assistants in front of her. They all avoided her eyes.

It wasn’t her rank or her uniform, Kira knew. Bajorans didn’t hold much stock in the militia yet, nor did fifty years of an occupation give a people much respect for uniforms. No, the uncomfortable deference and people averting their gaze had only begun when she had been tapped to be the Federation bride. 

She wondered what the young nurse thought of her as she hurried past them, closing the door behind her. Kira wanted to believe in the thank-yous and even gifts of gratitude her people would sometimes try to bestow on her, but internally she wondered if in their eyes she was nothing more than another comfort woman—just appeasing a different set of alien occupiers now.

“Nerys? You’ve gone as white as a sheet. Please, come sit down.”

 _Before you keel over,_ he didn’t add, but she read it in his worried expression when she raised her eyes to his. 

_Right,_ she thought with a slight tinge of bitterness, _because we are friends, and we’re at the point where we can read each other fairly well._ She prayed to the prophets that what she needed to ask him wouldn’t ruin their friendship, they had grown close so quickly, mostly as a result of everything between her and Benjamin.

Kira also did her best to remember the Kai’s admonishment that she wasn’t a comfort woman. Self-pity got her nowhere anyway. Once the Emissary had invoked Opaka’s words she knew she had no choice but to do this—and she was breathlessly grateful that somehow Benjamin had come to that conclusion even before she had.

Yet her feet refused to move and her voice still wouldn’t work. 

Julian continued his approach, only slower now, waiting until she focused on him before his tentative hand closed around her elbow, guiding her gently to the nearest bio bed. All she could think as she looked down at where he was touching her was what it would be like if something _did_ happen to Benjamin, and she and Julian…

She shook her head to clear it and stumbled slightly, a little light-headed now.

“Breathe, Nerys, it’s all right,” he enunciated quietly, his other hand moving to steady her as she regained her balance.

“Can we…” She had to pause as her mouth had gone dry. “Can we just talk in your office?”

His concerned frown deepened. “Of course.”

She let him lead her to his office and sit her down on his small couch in there. Wordlessly he brought her a cool glass of water, which she accepted gratefully.

Sipping it, she forced herself to focus. She was being ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen to Benjamin. Opaka and the orbs had foreseen their marriage after all. What she was here to ask Julian was little more than a formality—and nothing that would impact meaningfully on his life in any way if he didn’t want it to.

Heck, he could still pursue every woman who came to the station, and Jadzia, and even marry her if he so desired. Secretly Nerys didn’t think he stood a chance in hell of marrying Jadzia, but they were cute together with his incessant flirting and how much she enjoyed it. She had seen him in action at Quark’s with other women too, and when they refused him he would drown his sorrows in synthale (or something stronger if Miles was around) but he knew when to give up.

Moving his chair round from behind his desk so he could be close, Kira noticed him discreetly touch the control to lower it so he wouldn’t be towering over her with his lanky frame.

They sat quietly for a minute while she sipped the water and tried to collect her thoughts—which were scrambling to find another way out of this. But there was no doubt now about who the second should be. She had deliberately paid it no mind, assuming Sisko would go for the option to nominate someone neither of them would have to actually confront at any point just to get the formality out of the way.

Once he had invoked Kai Opaka’s words though, everything shifted into focus and she could see in Benjamin’s eyes he felt the same way—it was Julian, it simply was.

That is, if she didn’t somehow screw up asking him.

“You can tell me anything, Nerys,” he murmured, giving her a small reassuring smile when she lifted her eyes to his.

She swallowed hard. “Do you remember, um, when you met Kai Opaka?”

“Yes.”

“…what she said to you?”

He looked blank for a moment.

“At the airlock when you first met her?” she amended.

His brow furrowed. “I think she mistook me for the commander.”

“She called you ‘Federation husband’.”

He nodded cautiously, his eyes tracking hers.

“And then later, on the runabout, and on the moon…she said…or not even said, I can’t remember exactly, but something about ‘this one with protect you on the journey, he will be there’.”

He straightened a little in his chair, still watching her face carefully. “She talked with you about me?”

“Yes. I-I didn’t understand what she meant at the time.”

He searched her eyes. “You do now?”

She nodded. His eyes were dark and he had gone very still. She couldn’t read him right now. Had he figured out what was coming and was already disengaging, cycling through options to politely turn her down?

Her heart was racing and she rubbed her palms on her uniform trousers. Maybe she should have brought Sisko with her, but even remembering how Dax had told her it was usually a man who made a marriage proposal in Terran culture the idea of it just seemed too strange.

She took another sip of water. “Do you remember Opaka sometimes referred to the Commander as if he was more than one?”

“Go on,” he said softly. His eyes were hooded now.

She took a deep breath. Her next words could tip them over and if he wasn’t already following what she was talking about, there would be no taking it back now. “Opaka implied Federation _husbands._ ”

He still didn’t react, but at least he wasn’t gasping and running out of the room. She couldn’t read him at _all._ She had to admit to be being impressed, he usually wore his heart on his sleeve – his emotions on display in a way that was endearing but not at all like the way he was acting now.

“Benjamin said she spoke in a similar way with you—with there being more than one husband.”

“She did,” he replied carefully. “But I assumed it was just her unusual manner of speaking.”

“I did too.”

“Nerys…”

She braced herself, one arm crossing her stomach defensively, the fingers of her other hand curling around the armrest of the couch. 

Julian’s eyes flicked to where her fingers had tightened. “Sisko spoke with you about what the Kai said to me?”

She nodded slightly. Did he seem tense? Annoyed? She couldn’t tell; his inflection was measured and his face gave nothing away, except that he was still looking concerned for her.

“…when?” he asked softly.

“When did I talk with Benjamin about this? Just now.”

His eyes focused on her intensely. “Is he angry with you?”

The question took her by surprise. “Benjamin? No…at least I don’t think so.”

His shoulders dropped and unmistakable relief passed across his face. Confused, Kira tilted her head. “Why would he be angry?”

He looked at her for a moment, and she could almost see him deciding not to answer. Instead he ran his hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “You looked so nervous when you came in to the infirmary, I was just worried that’s all.”

Kira blinked. She couldn’t stand it anymore, the guessing game. “Do you know why I came here?” she blurted out.

“No, but like I said, Nerys, you can tell me anything.”

He was being truthful, she could see it in his wide eyes.

She bit her lip. “The negotiations with the vedeks and the council of ministers…about the wedding?”

He nodded. Everyone knew where they had gone that day, the whole station seemed like it was holding its breath, and maybe Bajor too. This had to work, too much was riding on it for the negotiations to fall apart or stall again.

She steeled herself. “And we have to nominate a second.”

His gaze remained blank.

“…which is a…” suddenly words deserted her. What had Benjamin said it was called on Earth? “Like a best man. Except not really, Dax said, when she researched it. And not an…honor brides-lady?”

“Bridesmaid?” he suggested.

“Right, not that either, because he can’t be married already.”

“Who…”

“The second.”

He squinted a little. “A bridesmaid isn’t married, do you mean a matron of honor?”

“Yes.” At least she thought so. This was going terribly.

“So it’s not those things?” he prompted helpfully.

“Right. Because you have to be unmarried, and a Federation citizen so not Odo, and not Dax—it has to be a man.”

“Welll…Dax has been both male and female.”

She smiled slightly as Julian wriggled in his chair a little.

“She tried, apparently.” Her smile widened – she still couldn’t believe Jadzia would have even considered being their second, it touched her deeply.

“But the vedeks wouldn’t accept her as a best man? Why does it have to be a Federation citizen?”

“Because,” _okay Nerys, time to lay your cards on the table,_ “because it’s more like a second husband than…than…whatever those other things are.”

He stilled again. “This is only coming up now?”

“Yes but not actually, he wouldn’t have to actually do _anything,_ the council said we wouldn’t so much as have to lay eyes on the second, if we didn’t want to. They are trying really hard to be sensitive to the more monogamous Terran traditions.”

Julian sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised, but otherwise carefully controlled.

Aware she was speaking too fast, Kira continued. “I was kind of hoping we could just skip this part completely to be honest, but the vedeks insisted. And if we just nominate someone we don’t know, there’s always the chance that something happens to Benjamin, and then I’d have to, um…”

“Then you’d have to meet him? And marry him? A complete stranger?” His voice rose in indignation. 

“We would already be married.”

“I don’t get it, aren’t most marriages on Bajor monogamous?”

She nodded. “But marriages of state are different…there has never been an arranged marriage on Bajor that was just two people, there was usually a second so that if one of the spouses died then the bloodlines could still be, uh, brought together.”

“Bloodlines?” His tone was still incredulous.

“No! That doesn’t apply in this case, that’s…I mean who knows if that’s even biologically possible—” Now she could see wheels spinning in his head and she thought he was going to interrupt her with some tangent about inter-species mating that she _really_ didn’t want to think about right now.

“If you have to have a second husband, does the Commander have to take a second wife?”

She hadn’t been expecting that question, but it made sense. “If I am out of the picture the council would select another Bajoran female, that’s their choice, but it works differently for the second bride – she doesn’t have to actually get married to the consort unless they are already in a relationship, or if something happens to the first.”

“So there isn’t one—a second wife?”

“Right.”

“But you have to have a second husband?”

 _Wouldyoudoit?_ It was on the tip of her tongue to ask but instead her mouth went dry and she just stared at him. She had seen realization slowly dawn in his eyes as their conversation had unfolded but it seemed like he hadn’t allowed himself to actually believe it until she finally fell quiet.

“Nerys,” he breathed, “do you mean _me?”_

“Yes,” she exhaled in a rush, heat rushing to her face. 

“You want _me?_ ” 

Her brain stalled on if she should say “ _I_ or _we_ want you, so what came out was more of a mumbled “…want you, yes.” She cringed slightly. If her body was still responding to her brains commands she would have dropped her head in her hands, this was possibly the lamest proposal ever. 

Maybe she should not have charged down here, but she suspected if she waited she would have talked herself out of it. She berated herself for making such a big deal out of what was unlikely to ever be a real marriage…unless Kai Opaka’s words were trying to direct her that way? Her cheeks burned even hotter. 

She took a breath despite the painful constriction in her chest. Julian looked incredulous, which—she reasoned desperately—was a lot better than horrified, or discounting it right away.

“Nerys, I…I’m only a lieutenant.”

“So?”

“They wanted to marry a Bajoran to the highest ranking Federation citizen—wait, did you have to pick from the senior staff?”

“No.” She shook her head, watching as myriad emotions she couldn’t decipher crossed his face. He did seem agitated at the idea of her having to choose from the crew though, so she hurried on, hoping to reassure him. 

“Actually the rank was never a real requirement, just the Council of Ministers liked the idea of it being a high ranking man. But as Dax found out with her research, if I had preferred a young cadet or a maintenance guy or someone they would have accepted that as long as he was from the Federation.” She swallowed tightly. “And as long as it moved things forward. It’s the delay that unsettles them more than anything.”

“I see.” He ran a hand through his hair again, looking more disheveled now. “Well, you know how I feel about them rushing you. I’ve told Commander Sisko from the start that he needs to be firm on waiting until you are completely ready.”

“You did?” she whispered. She hadn’t been aware that it had been even something they talked about.

“I know we didn’t know each other yet, but it was clear to me you didn’t want this…” he hesitated, “and you aren’t ready for it.”

She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. _This again._ “You keep saying that. Why does it matter?”

His jaw set. “It matters.”

“I wasn’t ready at three years old to lose my mother. My baby brother wasn’t ready to be weaned , he wasn’t ready to lose her either. He died of malnutrition.”

He didn’t react to the bitterness in her tone, nor did he look shocked or chastened by this information—it obviously wasn’t news to him, which surprised her. As chief medical officer did he have a file on all the senior medical officers? 

He inclined his head, an unbearable sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Nerys.”

“When I was twelve I thought I was more than ready to pick up a rifle and start killing Cardassians.”

“And were you?” he asked softly. To his credit he was holding her gaze steadily.

She swallowed. “It doesn’t matter how old you get; some things you’re never ready for.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement and they lapsed into silence. 

After a moment he reached out to rest his hand on hers. She watched as his thumb drew soothing circles on her skin, and tried not to let her mind wander into forbidden territory. Humans were monogamous, and she was determined to stick to Terran traditions as much as possible to make this work. She resolutely ignored the shivers of electricity traveling up her arm from his touch.

“Nerys, is that…for me to…be that to you, is this something you would feel comfortable with?” He asked so delicately Kira wondered just how much of a basketcase she must look right now.

“Yes…if _you_ would? Feel comfortable with me?”

He stared at her in something like amazement. “Of _course._ But are you sure? I mean—”

“You don’t have to _just_ be married to me,” she added quickly, scarcely able to believe she had forgotten to mention this part, and now she was in a rush to get it out before he turned her down. “You are still just as free to date, and live just as before, and get married to someone else if you want to.”

His eyebrows drew together and he sat back in his chair, his hand leaving hers. “So this is just…in name only?”

“I…” She should just say yes before she lost him completely. “It-it can be. It can be whatever you want.” By this point she didn’t even know what she was saying, she was just petrified he would flat out reject such a ridiculous idea. It was crazy enough to have to ask someone to marry you when you weren’t even in a relationship with them, she couldn’t imagine how ludicrous this must sound to someone from a monogamous culture.

“What _I_ want?” He leaned forward. “Nerys, what about what _you_ want?”

She bit her lip to keep from huffing at him impatiently. “That—”

_“Don’t say it doesn’t matter.”_

Goosebumps prickled along her skin at the command in his voice. He was staring at her intently, his normal mild-mannered mien completely transformed. 

She cast about for words, her heart hammering in her chest. “The Kai…when we were together with her…I-now in retrospect, it seems like she was trying to tell us that—”

She had to pause for breath, gratefully accepting the water glass when Julian passed it into her shaking hands.

“It’s okay, go on,” he urged her softly, his hands cupping hers where she held the glass.

“…It seemed liked the Kai was saying that you and I would be more than…in name only.” _What was she saying?_ She wanted to kick herself. Why was she trying to sabotage this and scare him off?

Julian nodded. “I got a sense of that too. Like you say—in retrospect.” His expression was carefully controlled again.

She caught her breath, her grip on the glass tightening almost painfully. “How would you feel if it was…um, more?” 

His eyes were shining and fixed on hers just as intensely as before. “What do _you_ want?” he repeated.

“You,” she replied without thinking. At the surprise in his face, panic overtook her and she quickly dropped her eyes and took a long draught of water, trying frantically to think of a way to qualify her answer. 

His chest seemed to expand for a moment, then he reached out and laid his hand over hers again, gentling his fingers on her taut wrist until she relaxed her death grip on the water glass. It seemed like he was shaking a little too, but she was still trembling so hard she could just be imagining it.

“Nerys…” He sounded awed and a little breathless. “May I…”

He gestured towards the space on the couch beside her.

She hesitated. It made sense and was a completely reasonable request: you can’t ask a guy to marry you then be surprised when it immediately escalates your physical intimacy. And was that even what he meant? He had sat beside her in countless situations.

Her hesitation was just for a second but it was a second too long, because he picked up on her nerves, and sat back in his chair looking a little downcast.

She immediately set her glass on the ground, spilling a little in her haste, and leaned forward, clasping his hand in between both of hers, hoping to draw him down beside her.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, worry darkening his eyes again.

“No, I-I’m fine. Julian, please…sit with me?”

He let her tug him close until they were sitting together on the tiny couch. He was all arms and legs, and when had he got so tall anyway?

“You’re scared.” It wasn’t a question, eyebrows drawing down in concern, his eyes fixed on hers and held her fast.

“I’m scared you’ll say no,” she whispered.

“I…Nerys, you’re really sure?”

She nodded as firmly as she could.

“And you want this?”

Her mouth had gone dry again at his proximity, his eyes much greener than she had ever realized, locked on hers like he could see straight through her.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I mean, you’re my friend. And I…I trust you.”

He dropped his head for a moment. “…Right.”

Confused, Kira ducked her head, trying to get him to meet her eyes again. “Julian?”

“I…I’m glad you’ve come to trust me.”

She waited, hardly daring to breathe.

He raised his eyes to hers. “I would be honored.”

“You’re saying yes?” She clutched his hand tighter, she could scarcely believe it.

“ _Yes._ Very much yes.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and there was nothing she could do to stop them this time. Her entire body sagged with relief. She covered her mouth with her free hand and bit her lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Nerys? Are you okay?”

Hearing the rising panic in his voice she reached out blindly through her tears. He caught her and drew her tentatively into his arms.

“Nerys? Does the idea of this frighten you? Please tell me why you are crying…” His voice was soft now, and laced with anguish.

She sniffed, allowing herself to lean her head against his surprisingly solid chest. “I’m okay,” she mumbled into his pristine Starfleet uniform, recognizing his distress and trying her best to gather her wits. “I’m just happy you said yes.” She was relieved he couldn’t see her face now to see her blush.


	2. Acceptance

Julian cradled in her arms, relief flooding him at finally being able to hold her and comfort her. He was still reeling from the idea of a second husband, and that she had chosen _him_ of all people. Had Sisko chosen this too? Was it just supposed to be the bride’s choice? He wished now he had paid better attention to Jadzia as she was laying out the research she had done.

From the moment he walked in on them when he had taken the hypospray to Sisko, to when she stepped into his infirmary (or more accurately, dithered about in the doorway just looking at him nervously) his skin prickled and every instinct had told him this was something important. He was hugely relieved it wasn’t something bad for once.

And if he was honest with himself he had wanted to gather her into a hug and just hold her for a while right then and there, just as he had plenty of times before now—like when the visiting delegate hit on her at Quarks, she had been irrationally afraid Sisko would be angry at _her_ , which made no sense to Julian at all until she caught some of what the vedeks were filling her head with about Terran males being possessive to the point of violence.

Or back when they first lost the Kai, then they had to leave her behind, and he had to watch Nerys lose her all over again. Or when she came to him stricken that night when Molly’s fever had taken him away from Sisko’s dinner party and without him or Miles there to run interference for her things had gone awry between her and Sisko, and she was terrified she had ruined everything. 

Julian wasn’t sure if Kira was more scared of ruining her chances of keeping Sisko as a groom, or him staying in that role and coming for her to insist they spend time alone together as a precondition of the marriage. He hadn’t dared even placed a comforting hand on her shoulder that night, she was clearly strung out and on a hair trigger. Not that he could blame her after everything she had explained about comfort women and what happened to them in those quarters.

Her breath hitched against his chest, and instinctively his arms moved around her more tightly. At least now he could finally hold her close and provide her some measure of comfort as he had ached to do before.

“Nerys?” He spoke very softly, reluctant to break the spell between him, but worried by her tears – she was usually so stoic. “Why are you crying?”

She shifted slightly against him, and he loosened his hold a little, mindful of frightening her. “I’m just…when you said _honored_ …it means a lot to me that you recognize the importance of this to my people. I know it’s backwards and antiquated, but it’s so powerful, and Opaka is right, it’s needed. To be united with the Federation, it _is_ an honor, I guess I lose sight of that.”

He chose his words carefully. “It’s a tremendous honor to be a part of this, Nerys. But I’m also honored that you chose _me._ And that you trust me.”

She sighed, curling into him, and he breathed out in relief that she seemed comfortable with their closeness. He resisted the urge to question her further, to try to discern if she wanted him to fill the slot of second just to have someone she trusted in that role, or if she really wanted him to be an actual _husband_ to her.

In the back of his mind there was a nagging worry that this young, inexperienced (at least in these matters) woman, was getting pushed into things she was nowhere near ready for, and the debacle in Sisko’s quarters that night exemplified it…he was still kicking himself for not being there to protect her.

He knew that the Commander would never have hurt her intentionally, but it isn’t as if her refusal to stay with him, then running, did anything to clear up their misunderstandings. Instead it just ended with Kira coming to the conclusion that Sisko had decided to call off the wedding, and she panicked and dropped all her defenses and safeguards, willing to do anything to keep the wedding on – it was the opposite outcome of what they should have sought for and it made Julian on edge, more worried for her than ever.

But now this—as a ‘second’ could he speak candidly with Sisko? Better protect Nerys? Would he be along for some possibly intimidating shrine wedding service?

“Nerys, does Commander Sisko…he knows you’re here?”

She nodded against his chest. “He and Jadzia came to me to suggest you.”

He tensed. “So this was…their idea? That I would be the second?” If this was just one more thing she was being pressed into against her will then he couldn’t stomach being part of that, but then neither could he leave her to the whims of a stranger. But was he just kidding himself that he was much more than that to her? 

Kira seemed to have picked up on some of his tension, she wasn’t answering right away. She detangled herself from his arms just enough to pull back and see his face. “In a way, yes, but once they came to me with their conclusion that it was you I knew they were right.”

She must have read some of the doubt on his face for her hand came up to his cheek and hovered there for a moment. Trembling, she curled her fingers into a loose fist and pressed it back against her breastbone instead. Too unsure of him still, but light years closer than they used to be surely, he reasoned. She was letting him hold her, for one thing.

“It is supposed to be you, you see that, right?” She swallowed nervously and her eyes searched his. “You’ve always been here for me, I turned to you for help when even I didn’t understand why…and the way you make me feel…how you protect me instinctually…everything flows with Opaka’s words, with her prophecy.”

“How do I make you feel?” he breathed, worrying he was pushing her too far too soon, but he had to know he was welcome in her life.

Her eyes grew impossibly wider. “Um…” she looked down and fiddled with her hands in her lap. “Safe?” she managed eventually. “And just…I don’t know yet, but this feels right.” She ran out of breath, and he thought she was finished but then she added, so softly he almost missed it, “it feels right when you touch me.”

His stomach did a slow flip at her words. She pulled away then, shuffling to the arm of the couch, and he let her go, missing her warmth immediately, but keeping his eyes trained on her. She pulled up her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. 

“I never thought I could feel that way, not about an—” She broke off and shook her head at herself. “Someone who isn’t Bajoran.”

He leaned forward, wary of crowding her, but compelled to be close to her as if there was a magnetizing force between them. He threaded his fingers together in his lap, both to keep from fidgeting and to keep his hands from giving in to the need to touch her again. “I promise I will never hurt you, and I will do my utmost I can to fulfill the Kai’s wish that I keep you safe, and I will do everything in my power not to frighten you.”

She gulped, her eyes huge. “Julian,” she breathed, her eyes shining with tears again. She clutched his hand, drawing it into her lap.

“Listen, Nerys, there are things we will need to talk about—things you don’t know about me. And if we are to be married, you probably should.” He almost cringed, hating to throw a wrench into the works, but if they were to be husband and wife she would need to know what she was getting into. His stomach churned.

“…Okay.” She gave him a quizzical look.

Julian took a deep breath. She trusted him, and now he had to trust her in return.

Holding her hands, he fumbled his way through an explanation of his genetic alteration, trying as best as he could to keep it simple.

She bit her lip, staring at him when he was finished. She looked surprised, but not disgusted, or even angry.

“And…no one knows this?”

“Nerys…this is illegal in the Federation, and for good reason. Genetically enhanced people are not permitted to serve in Starfleet. I-I’m not going to tell you that you can’t discuss this with Commander Sisko, but you need to understand that if you do…”

“He would either have to report you or risk getting in trouble himself if he doesn’t?”

Julian nodded soberly. His chest was tight, but he couldn’t let Nerys agree to _marry_ him without this knowledge.

She reached for her water glass and took a sip. Her hands were steadier now, he realized. Maybe his timing wasn’t too terrible then, she seemed to be processing this information in Major Kira mode – calmly, and strategically.

“I don’t think we should tell Benjamin, or anyone. But that’s your decision. If you ever do, I’ll support you whatever you decide, and whatever happens.”

His head fell back and his stomach unclenched somewhat. “You don’t…doesn’t this make you…” He squeezed her hand, suddenly too choked up to speak, relief flooding him.

“What? I don’t think of you any differently if that’s what you mean.” Her eyebrows drew down and she wrapped both her hands around his. “You okay?” she queried gently.

He nodded, and then rubbed his eyes. Her voice was clear and strong again. It meant so much to him that she had responded in this way—nothing but acceptance and warmth. And strength. It gave him hope that should he ever be found out, god forbid, he would still have friends here, if not his career and commission. And she would be at his side, she would be there for him.

She put an arm around him a little awkwardly, and he leaned into her embrace gratefully. When he rested his head on her shoulder she hugged him tighter.

“If Starfleet is ever stupid enough to kick you out, Bajor always needs good doctors,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He huffed a laugh, his hands moving over her back. She was diminutive under his hands, still rail thin from the occupation, but he could feel her wiry strength as she held him close.

“And the vedeks?” he managed finally, when he could speak without his voice cracking.

“You mean would I tell them? No! It’s none of their business.”

“Okay,” he breathed out.

She cupped his face for a second when she pulled back from him, asking him again if he was okay.

He nodded, gulping down air. It was overwhelming—this feeling of...of belonging. Was this what a marriage was supposed to be? Someone who had your back, with whom you could see the world as an ‘us’ not I’? _If Starfleet rejects you, you will still have a home with me, a career in my world,_ she had essentially said, and it took his breath away. Ever since he had turned his back on his family, Starfleet was all he had. Now his whole world had shifted.

If you had asked just an hour ago if he was ready to be married to someone he would have laughed at the notion and considered himself many years too young for such a commitment, but right then it felt like it was the most precious thing he had ever experienced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting a new decade as i mean to go on: fanfic :D #writeyourjoy #fictherapy


	3. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a conversation I realized needs to come sooner than originally written. This takes place during S1 ep 14 "The Storyteller"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming back to this after a long hiatus and trying to fix up all the unposted parts. I realized this section needs to come earlier, so I'm belatedly adding it.

A shadow in the cottage’s little living room made Julian look up from his tricorder. A tall blond Bajoran man filled the doorway, blocking the setting Bajoran sun. Julian set his tricorder down, he wasn’t getting anywhere with recalibrating it anyway – there was simply no trace of anything unexpected at all, organic or inorganic, on the rocks he was examining. If he hadn’t seen the Dal-Rok with his own eyes he would have written this off as nothing more than a case of mass psychogenic hysteria on the part of the villagers.

He smiled amiably at his visitor. Miles had been getting a stream of them all day now, wanting him to prophecy on the future of the crops, or bless a new well being dug. “I’m afraid Chief O’Brien is off with Faren. Can I be of any help?”

The stranger sauntered into the cottage, kicking the door closed behind him. His manner put Julian on guard and he rose to his feet. All their other visitors had shown deference and submissiveness; this man was anything but.

“Chief?”

“Or Sirah, if you prefer,” Julian offered, mentally noting his phaser was in the other room.

“But you are the doctor.”

“…Yes.” It wasn’t a question. “And you are?”

The tall man planted himself squarely in front of Julian and eyed him up and down. “I came to talk to you about your intended.”

Julian’s mouth went dry. There was a distinct threat in the man’s tone, and his eyes were like flint. And how did he know about Nerys? As far as Julian was aware there were very few people who knew yet about her proposal.

He stood stock still and just waited. To his surprise, the man’s mouth curved into a smile, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“My name is Shakaar Edon. You needn’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, what kind of pisspoor resistance cell leader would I be if I couldn’t keep tabs on my people?”

“You’re…”

“She’s mentioned me then. And you’re her alien intended. One of them anyway.”

Julian breathed out. For a moment he had feared he was being accosted by one of the growing terrorist cells on Bajor that were against any alien involvement at all – he kept abreast of Odo’s security briefs because any trouble brewing on the planet’s surface could make its way to his infirmary eventually. He had heard this splinter group were becoming more violent by the day. But this was Shakaar, so this was something else, this was personal.

“I could fix that hip for you, if you want?”

Shakaar blinked. “What?”

“You gait is canted to the left slightly. You are favoring your right leg. It doesn’t look too bad, might not even need surgery. I can fix even labral tears with just what I have in the runabout.”

“Nice to see you care more about our medical needs than our previous _occupiers,_ ” Shakaar rejoined glibly.

“This is not an occupation. We are here to help the Bajoran people.”

Shakaar cocked his head. “Uh huh. Treat a lot of Bajorans, do you? I’d be surprised if they trusted an alien. I’m surprised Nerys does, for that matter.” He fixed him with a cold stare.

Julian inclined his head. “It’s a work in progress. We are renovating the infirmary to make it more accommodating, building private treatment rooms, soundproofed for maximum privacy, I hope in time the Bajoran population of Deep Space Nine will come to trust…” He broke off, Shakaar was almost scoffing.

“It took me almost an entire day to get out here from Dakhur province. And whatever I was expecting to find, this is not it.”

Julian had the sense he should be offended.

Shakaar harrumphed, then pulled away from his dominant stance to look out the window. “Still, I suppose you’re fairly non-threatening. She could probably beat you to the ground if you stepped out of line.” He smiled to himself.

“You care about her.”

The smirk fell from Shakaar’s face and he shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to another.

Julian pressed on. “You practically raised her. She was what, fourteen when she joined your resistance cell?”

Shakaar didn’t say anything for a moment. “She told us she was fourteen. She was twelve.”

Julian had known both those things. He had memorized the medical and intel files of all Deep Space Nine’s senior staff before his transport ship had even docked. But his attempt to tap into Shakaar’s paternal instincts was apparently working. 

He ran a hand around the back of his neck, and muttered under his breath, “twelve!” Then he looked straight at the other man. “We have something in common.”

Shakaar just regarded him, looking a little wary.

“We both want very much to protect her,” Julian continued, quietly now. “Is there anything I should know? Anything that would make this easier on her?”

Shakaar gave him a skeptical look. “Simple. Don’t force her into this.”

Despite himself, Julian could feel a nerve jump in his jaw. “It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is.”

“If it isn’t Nerys, it will just be someone else.”

“Then let it be someone else. She has done enough for Bajor already.”

Julian wanted to keep arguing, but he could sense he would get nowhere. “Perhaps you should talk to her yourself.”

Shakaar just glowered at that, and started pacing the small room. Out of the corner of his eye, Julian saw Miles and Faron heading towards the cottage.

“Give me a moment?”

Shakaar looked at him in surprise as he met Miles at the door, and quietly sent him away again. Julian turned around to him and gestured to the couch. “I’d could offer you some tea, if you want. Or any number of Bajoran delicacies—we’ve had more gifts of food and drink than we could eat if we were here all winter.”

Once again, Shakaar looked unsettled – perhaps not expecting hospitality when he had shown up here ready to punch Julian into the next decade.

“Your friend – you sent him away.”

“Miles doesn’t know yet, about Nerys, that she has chosen a second, or who it is. Very few people know actually.”

“I know about anything that threatens my people.” The aggression was back again, always simmering.

“Nerys like ginger tea, could I make you some?”

That knocked the wind out of Shakaar’s sails again. “What do you want to know, doctor?”

Sensing he was running out of Shakaar’s limited patience, Julian decided there was nothing left to lose here. “Was she ever, during the occupation, was Nerys sexually assaulted?”

Shakaar looked at him like he had grown two heads. “Are you serious?”

Julian had a sudden suspicion. “Did the vedeks or the council of ministers ask you something similar?”

“No! And they wouldn’t even think to. For one thing, every girl and woman who fought in the resistance was subject to all kinds of assault, all the time. You obviously don’t know any Cardassians, do you?”

Before Julian could answer that, Shakaar’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Are you asking me if she was ever raped?”

Julian swallowed. “Any kind of sexual assault. Or any experience that would give her post-traumatic stress disorder and trigger her if she was again put in a situation where she had to...do something like that against her will.” No point in beating about the bush.

Shakaar held his gaze for a moment, deflating slightly. Julian could see his love and protectiveness for Nerys in the pain in his eyes. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Not-not raped…I mean, not that I know off, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t – but I _do_ know were plenty of close calls. But sexual assault, too many to count.”

Julian swallowed again, his stomach bottoming out. He leaned back against the couch.

“Cardassian soldiers are easily distractible by a beautiful girl. Once Nerys was old enough to be part of a melee they’d be all over her, holding her down, trying to…” He sat down heavily. “Her shrieks deafened them, and they’d be the last thing any of them heard.”

“You…are you saying you used her as bait?”

Shakaar’s expression darkened. “Not intentionally, and at least not at first, but after a couple of times of that happening Lupaza—an older girl in my cell—took her to task, said if she was going to end up in that position then they had to strategize around it, to maximize her potential to distract them, but have the rest of us pile on and rip out their throats _before_ they laid a hand on Nerys.”

He paused again. Julian waited respectfully.

“It worked well on occasion when we needed it – which trust me, I tried to keep few and far between, it turned my stomach to use any woman that way and Nerys was little more than a girl—Lupaza even convinced her to let her hair grow, the Cardies loved that.” His face contorted in disgust.

“Tell you what though – she hated wearing her hair long and she hated those assignments. Oh she was a good girl, she did what she had to do, as long as it was just a few seconds of allowing their attentions—any more than that she didn’t have the stomach for, she would just let fly. I honestly think she hated it more than just an all-out melee, where although she would be badly shaken if one of them groped her or held her down, she didn’t have to go through any pretense, no matter how fleeting, of entertaining the idea of encouraging their leers and cat calls.”

Any concern that Shakaar might conceal the true extent of Kira’s experiences was long gone from Julian’s mind. Everything he was describing was quintessential Kira. And no wonder she was so reluctant to accept this marriage – it was nothing _but_ embracing the idea of encouraging the affections of alien men.

He could also understand, knowing Kira, why direct, violent sexual assault as part of a wartime confrontation, even if more severe in degree of injury and violation, could have less long-term ramifications for her psychologically than missions requiring her to seduce the enemy – those same violent alien invaders who slaughtered her family and friends. It made him sick to his stomach to think of it, and it was no surprise she could only stand it for a few seconds.

Now the Kai’s words made sense—he had once asked Nerys what the remembered most about what Opaka had said to her, and without hesitating she recited, _“the life of a comfort woman is not in the prophets’ plan for you”._

Shakaar was still looking away from him, lost in recollection. “I can remember one of the first times. She was very young, the Cardies found our makeshift camp – or at least they came across the lookouts, one of which was Nerys that night. Her fellow lookout, Jian, he was barely fifteen…we found him afterwards, his throat had been cut so viciously they practically beheaded him. But it must have been fast as he didn’t make a sound. What woke the camp was Nerys’ screams – the kind that make your blood run cold. She would have ended up like him if they hadn’t had other intentions in mind for her.”

Julian ran a hand over his face, his eyes closing against the horror of what he was picturing in his mind. 

Shakaar kept talking. “She was so, so angry when we got her back. She was shaking so hard she could barely stand but all she wanted to do was go after them and rip out their throats. If they had just wanted to kill her I think she would have been less enraged, if that made any sense. It was like she felt she had cheated death. She barely spoke and wouldn’t eat for days. In the end Lupaza and some of the other girls managed to reach her, to explain to her that she was alive, and if we were ever going to beat the Cardies we had to use everything we had, not waste time railing against what had happened to Jian. She was never quite the same after that. She hates them. We all do.”

Julian nodded grimly. “When they had her…did they hurt her?”

Shakaar shook his head. “She was screaming so loud they couldn’t even hold onto her. We were on them in moments.” He looked at Julian. “She was on missions for over a decade though. I couldn’t always watch over her. There’s no telling what she has been through.”

“Yeah,” Julian breathed. “Now I get why my original question was…naïve.”

Shakaar just gave him a wry sideways smile. “Your intention is to make this easier for her. And I appreciate that. I thought for a moment this was more of this Terran purity nonsense the Vedek Council seemed preoccupied with. If it were up to me this whole archaic farce of a temple marriage should never have even been suggested.”

“You’ll get no argument on that account from us.”

That response gave Shakaar pause. Julian wondered if he had expected a different answer.

“I need to get going, but I can give you one piece of advice,” Shakaar offered.

Julian spread his hands. “Please.”

“What you said earlier about building a bigger sick bay to get patients to trust you – it’s not going to work. Private treatment rooms, locking doors, soundproofing – you are going the wrong direction if you’re trying to get Bajorans to come to you for treatment of their own free will.”

Julian frowned. “How so?”

“We lived in camps, in caves, on top of each other, whether for lack of space or to conserve heat during the long winters. If you isolate a Bajoran they immediately get nervous, only Cardassians did that. All the more so if you take them into small locked rooms where no one can hear them.”

Julian’s jaw set, rankling against the comparison even as he recognized the wisdom of Shakaar’s advice. “I always bring a Bajoran nurse or medic with me when it’s a female patient, or anyone who seems vulnerable.”

Shakaar shrugged. “You’ve asked me about Nerys’ past. I’m telling you how it was for all of us. Even on the occasion when Bajorans did have any sort of physical intimacy with each other during the occupation, we were never completely alone. People might pair up and sneak off but you always knew you could be interrupted at a moment’s notice, and caves don’t have doors, never mind door locks.”

“I just thought it…” Julian waved his hand in the air, dismissing his own words, “…would be easier – at least there is privacy, but I guess that’s Federation thinking.”

“And if you take that further, for a bride…being alone with a man in a closed room, with the expectation that she and he…” Shakaar rolled her hand vaguely, “it’s potentially uncomfortable. And the more it’s cut off from other people, the less it resembles anything that they freely choose. Cardassians were the ones who would force themselves on people, but in the height of a battle or returning from a close escape—whether you win or lose, seeing comrades die or be captured, or if you had to take lives, everything is heightened, and sometimes people can lose control, can need to lose themselves afterwards, you understand?”

Julian nodded, wondering where this was going.

“…and not always be gentle—but with no bad intent behind it. But the lack of privacy checked that behavior – if all you had to do was call out if someone got carried away, it kept the young men in check. When it came to my cell I expressly kept that kind of thing off limits for the younger crew, but when they got older—those that survived—and boys started trying to girls away, further into the caves, the rule was to not go out of earshot, and I would keep an eye on them.”

“Did that work, to keep them safe?”

“If I heard the faintest sound that someone wasn’t happy I’d put an end to it.” 

Julian chewed on his lower lip, his mind already racing ahead, completely redesigning the new section of the infirmary. Therapy and treatment rooms could default to open doors, and his staff could be strategically positioned to let arriving patients see they would not be alone here, that someone would be in earshot even when they were in these back rooms. It intuitively felt right, based on everything he had dealt with so far, trying (and mostly failing, if he was honest) to get some of the more vulnerable patient population to come to him at all.

He raised his head to keep talking, but Shakaar was already halfway out the door.

“Thank you,” he called out. 

Shakaar just grunted, leaving the cottage door swinging open in the breeze.


	4. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re-imagining of the episode Progress S1 ep15

“It’s ready!”

Turning in surprise from her chair in Odo’s security office where they had been going over the nightly activity report, Kira saw Jake Sisko bounding across the promenade.

“It’s ready,” he repeated excitedly, throwing himself into her arms as she held them out for a hug. Over the top of his head she could see Benjamin making his way across the promenade too, but at a more sedate pace. His eyes lit up to see his young son in Kira’s arms.

“Will you come see? Now we can have pancake breakfasts every day, and you can tell me off for not tidying my room, and help me with my homework, and it will be like…” he trailed off as he hugged her closer. Her heart hurting for him, Kira bent down to rest her cheek on his hair.

Benjamin caught up to them and they shared a smile.

“Can we show her, dad?”

Still reeling from Jake’s words, Kira turned to Odo. “I’m sorry, constable.”

“Apologies for the interruption, Odo,” Sisko added. “Jake, this station is about to get very busy as the staging ground for the work on Bajor’s moon. I’m sure the constable and the major have a lot to discuss, why don’t we come back when they are through?”

Jake deflated a little. “Can we get a Jumja stick?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure,” his dad rubbed Jake’s head affectionately, and then the young boy was off again.

“The new quarters are ready, I take it?” Odo intoned.

“More or less. Don’t worry Odo, we followed all your security recommendations.” Benjamin smiled at the constable’s harrumph.

Kira spoke up hesitantly. “Jake said they’re are ready for me to see?”

“I would be happy to show you around, when you are not busy?”

“I’d like that. Give us five minutes?” 

Sisko nodded at them before heading off to find Jake again.

“We can finish this later, if you prefer,” Odo offered graciously.

“No, don’t be silly Odo. Minister Joran will be here this morning, this is important.”

The constable nodded. “O’Brien says everything is ready with the Starfleet corp of engineers, they hope to begin tapping the core of the moon by the end of the week – the fifth moon?”

“Jeraddo, yes, Bajor’s fifth moon. The minister believes it will provide enough energy for several Bajoran provinces to make it through the winter.”

Odo nodded, watching her carefully. “I think you’ll like the new quarters.”

She sipped her raktajino. “Mmm. You’ve seen them?”

“I reviewed the plans as chief of security. Will you keep you old ones until after the wedding, do you think?”

Odo was turning over his PADD in his hands, not quite meeting her eyes. She knew he didn’t usually like to talk about personal stuff, but she appreciated he was making the effort. He was her oldest and closest friend on the station, and he had patiently listened to her complain about this whole marriage long before she had even met Benjamin.

“That was supposed to be the plan, to wait until then…but did you hear Jake just now?”

Odo nodded. “He is hoping it will be like having a mother again.”

Kia’s face fell. “That’s what I was afraid of. I can’t disappoint him, Odo. The kid is so young to have gone through so much. Maybe I could stay there sometimes…before the wedding, I mean? Julian and Benjamin have been working on the layout for a while, I have my own quarters-within-quarters or something like that?”

“Hmph. Yes. And quite a few security modifications because they don’t want standard space station doors.”

“They don’t?” That was news to her.

“You didn’t know? It was Julian’s idea. Sisko brought in a shipment of Bajoran teak to make the doors and doorframes himself. Playing havoc for security.”

She stared at him. “Why did they…and why is it a security problem?”

“They open and close on hinges, with some kind of keyed bolt lock, quite old fashioned. They cannot be overrode remotely, or locked remotely. Except the outer doors, Starfleet regulations wouldn’t budge on those safety standards – security and medical have to be able to gain access or lock them down in an emergency, especially given these quarters house the station’s commander and first officer.”

She looked at Odo askance. “And Doctor Bashir, right?”

“Sort of. They wanted you to have a full set of quarters for maximum privacy, including external doors to the habitat ring so you can come and go as you please without having to walk through communal space, but with the Siskos having family size quarters and state rooms to entertain diplomats at dinner parties, that didn’t leave much room to squeeze in the doctor.

Kira was growing increasingly concerned.

“Not to worry Nerys, as CMO, Julian needs to maintain direct access to the infirmary – so he’s actually staying in place.”

“The quarters closest to the infirmary?”

“Yes, he maintains his own full set of quarters. You and the Siskos have the habitat section directly below Julian’s quarters. They built a staircase running down from the junction that connects his quarters to the infirmary.”

“Oh.” So Julian could still entertain…whoever he wanted to bring home from Quarks, whenever he wanted, and she and Sisko need be none the wiser.

“That’s a good idea, I suppose.” So why did she feel a strange twist of jealousy—it was ludicrous, she _wanted_ Julian to feel free to date other people after all—so he wouldn’t feel trapped or hemmed in by this marriage.

“So all I am saying,” Odo spread his hands, “is that you could move in and still have your own space, you just need to wait until the doors are finished so you can close the door connecting your living room to the Siskos.”

“So these doors, they close?”

“Yes, of course, and lock – but with actual physical keys. And they are keyed in such a way you can lock everyone out and they can’t use their keys to get in, and there are deadbolts. I guess if you really just want alone time.”

Her mind was spinning. “How did they come up with this stuff, and…I don’t even understand why?”

His gravelly voice gentled. “So you will feel safe, Nerys.”

“The regular station doors are pretty secure!” 

“With the standard station doors someone can manually override the locking mechanisms, so I think that was their thinking, but they also talked about soundproofing. The current station doors are soundproofed well though.” Odo shrugged and looked as perplexed as she felt. 

“I don’t feel unsafe! They are my…I mean, they will be my husbands.”

He spread his hands again. “I wasn’t following their reasoning either but I am sure Sisko will be happy to explain it to you.”

She blew out a breath. “I’m glad you briefed me, constable. At least now I know what to expect. It doesn’t sound like the plans Sisko first showed me.”

Odo tilted his head. “You’ve added a husband since then, I understand.”

Kira’s cheeks warmed. They had chosen to reveal the second’s identity only to the senior officers so far. It hadn’t been long since Julian had accepted after all, and she didn’t want him overwhelmed by all the attention this would bring on him. 

Odo seemed to be taking it in his stride—or at least he was now. When the topic had first come up she had held out hope that _he_ could be her second, but when Jadzia nixed that idea by telling them it had to be Starfleet, Odo’s reaction had been inscrutable.

Odo indicated behind her. “I think Jake’s patience has run out. Why don’t you go along, I can finish up here, there are just some anomalous readings of humanoids on 15-delta on Jeraddo—”

“We evacuated that area already.”

He nodded in agreement. “It’s probably nothing.”

Blinking at the Jeraddo sunlight, Julian stepped out of the cottage, closing the door behind him. “He’s stable,” he offered to Kira. She was pacing, which was more than he thought he could handle in this heat.

“Thank you.” She nodded stiffly at him.

“How are _you_ holding up?” he asked softly.

“Me? I’m fine. Just wish I knew a way to get him off his moon.”

“He refuses to leave.”

Kira almost smiled at that. “Really?” she said sardonically, mostly under her breath.

“He's got to be cared for. I'm going to take him without his permission.” Much as he tried to sound authoritative, he had to admit it was mostly to get Nerys out of here. Mullibok’s injuries weren’t life threatening, but this situation was clearly tearing Nerys apart.

“No, you're not.”

“He needs close attention.” He briefly considered putting his Chief Medical Officer hat on and making it an order, but his heart wasn’t in it. Besides, who knew if the Bajoran militia had any provision allowing doctors to override their superior officers’ decisions during medical emergencies? 

If not it would just seem like more off-worlders flexing their might to enforce their will. Julian didn’t want to put himself in that position where Nerys was concerned, but he also couldn’t stand the position she was put into: forced to play the role of the occupying force and dispossess a farmer from his land. It didn’t take genetic enhancements to draw the parallel to Cardassians.

“I'll be here.” She turned away from him and began removing her jacket briskly.

He caught his breath. Her sleeveless white blouse was so much more feminine than he would have expected for a militia uniform, but at least much more practical for this heat.

“There's no medical facility here,” he tried again, sensing it was easier for her to keep things professional for now.

She was studiously avoiding his eyes. “Leave the instructions and whatever medication you think he'll need.”

As he watched, she started slapping some kind of cement on the stone plates, then attaching them to the half-finished kiln.

“Nerys.” His voice changed to a low, quiet tone. He was worried for her. “What are you doing?”

She sighed, dropping her hands. 

He set his tricorder down and moved to her side.

“I thought…” She met his eyes finally. “I thought after the Cardassians, life would be about _building_ , not destroying.”

His heart wrenched in his chest. “It will be. But right now, it’s about surviving. It’s about several hundred thousand Bajoran families with heat this winter—for the first time since the occupation drained their natural reserves.”

She blinked a few times, her eyes slightly damp.

“…And Nerys, that will be because of the people of Bajor working together with Federation engineers to make it happen.” He tried to catch her eyes again but she had turned back to the kiln. “We can do so much together. Look at the Paqu and Navot, just last week. They are at peace now—and more than that, the trade agreement is opening up so much for that whole region.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. 

“That was you and Sisko. This is the power of combining Bajoran and Federation resources. It’s just the beginning.”

She tried to smile at him then swallowed tightly.

Julian watched her. “You and Mullibok aren’t coming back with me, are you?”

She shook her head, then began working on the kiln again.

“I could stay here with you, if you want?” 

She shook her head again. “I…Julian, I appreciate it, but I just need...I need to be here.”

 _Without Starfleet,_ she didn’t add, but she didn’t need to. He brought to mind their conversation in her quarters, a while ago now, about a frightened haru cat, when he had wondered if she was thinking about running.

Tentatively, he reached for her and covered her hand with his own. She hesitated, and he was just about to pull back when she threaded their fingers together wordlessly, her huge brown eyes imploring his.

He tightened his hold on her hand just briefly before releasing her to return to building the kiln. “How about while you are doing that, I walk you through the instructions for Mullibok’s care?” 

Her eyes locked on his, unspoken gratitude shining in them. 

Back on the station, Julian sat across from Sisko, trying his best not to feel like he had failed. “She didn’t offer much in the way of an explanation, sir. She simply removed her uniform tunic and started building.”

Sisko sighed. “Well doctor, right now she stands a pretty good chance of being out of uniform permanently. I'm going to tell Minister Toran that she has remained temporarily on Jeraddo at your request.”

Julian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But sir, that isn't true.”

Sisko raised an expectant eyebrow.

 _Oh._ Julian cleared his throat. “Commander, I'd advise that Major Kira remain on Jeraddo for humanitarian reasons…How long?”

“The next day or two.”

“For the next day or two, sir.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I'll consider that request.”

The two of them just looked at each for a moment. The awkwardness between them was tangible; it had only been a few days since Kira’s proposal and neither Julian nor Sisko had the first idea how to wrap their heads around the idea of being… married. Julian scrubbed his hand over his face, dropping his professional demeanor for a moment.

“How is she, Julian?” Sisko ventured, the tone of his voice shifting, along with the use of his first name instead of _doctor_.

Julian shook his head unhappily. “I’m honestly not sure. I think…I hope it’s just that she just needs a little more time with Mullibok, to bring him to reason.” 

“You think…it’s something more than that?”

“I hope not,” Julian replied honestly. He could feel Sisko’s concern for Kira, but he wasn’t sure if he would be betraying her confidence to mention his fears that she might run away. How did that kind of thing work with co-husbands? He had the faintest clue, but Sisko was also their superior officer, so Julian followed his instincts and decided to keep his mouth shut.

_“Sisko to Kira.”_

Kira jumped at the sound of her combadge, incongruent in the bucolic farmhouse setting. She reached for her jacket quickly. “Commander.”

“I'm preparing to beam down.”

Kira shared a startled look with Mullibok. “I don't think that's a good idea.” How could she begin to explain this situation to Benjamin?

“Major, either I'm coming down or you're coming up.”

Their use of each other’s titles had become their common practice when off the station or in company of strangers on official business, but now she heard an edge to his voice when he invoked it.

“Your husband-to-be doesn't have much faith in you, does he?” Mullibok was trying to get a rise out of her again.

Kira glared at him in exasperation. Just then the door knocked and she jumped slightly. She moved to answer it, but Mullibok stopped her.

“Nerys. This is still my home.” He pushed past her, and opened the door to sneer at Sisko. “What do you want?”

“I'm here to see Major Kira.”

Inside the cottage Kira stood frozen at the sound of his voice. He sounded more concerned than upset. She almost wished he was just angry – that she could deal with.

“Well, she doesn't want to see you. Neither do I.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest at the thought that Benjamin would think that she was hiding here. “Wait a minute. Don't speak for me.” She hurried into view, her heart skipping another beat when she saw him.

His eyes were even more concerned than his voice as they raked over her, checking her for injuries before he turned back to Mullibok. “You know, you're causing a lot of trouble.”

“I can't tell you how delighted I am to hear it. How many of your Federation uniforms are you planning to send after me? Forty? Fifty?”

“I don't think it'll come to that.”

“That depends on how bad you want to get rid of me,” Mullibok groused.

“Mister Mullibok, I'm here because I'm concerned about my first officer.”

“What about her?”

“By staying here, she's jeopardizing her career.”

Mullibok scoffed. “That’s it? She’s going to be your wife!”

Kira finally pushed her way in between them and faced Mullibok. “Would you go back to bed?”

“You quit telling me what to do!”

“Major, can I see you outside for a minute?” Sisko’s eyes narrowed when Mullibok’s hand moved around her elbow. 

She shoved out of Mullibok’s grasp. 

“Talk to him as long as you want. Why don't you tell him the story about your tree.” He grabbed her other arm as she attempted to manoeuver around him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Benjamin bristle.

She shook Mullibok off again. “Be quiet.” 

“There was this big, ugly tree,” Mullibok crowed.

“Go on,” Benjamin suggested, his voice deceptively light.

Mullibok squared off with Sisko, then seemed to deflate. “Never mind,” he muttered, heading back inside and closing the door on them.

Kira stalked over to the kiln, avoiding Benjamin’s eyes.

He followed her slowly. “I can see why you like him.”

She began gathering bricks. “What can I do for you, Commander?” She kept her tone brusque, unable to process having this conversation on any kind of emotional level. 

There was a pause, then Benjamin seemed to pick up on her cue. “You and I have a materiel subsistence report to finish by the end of the week.”

 _And a wedding plan to finalize,_ Kira was immensely grateful he didn’t throw that in her face. Materiel subsistence reports were much easier for her to wrap her head around. Besides, with the addition of an actual second, the council of ministers had agreed to another delay.

“I don't think I'm going to be able to help you with that.” She turned her back on him and crouched down at the kiln.

“It's part of the liaison officer's job.” He knelt down at her side until they were eye to eye.

“I know, Benjamin.” Her voice almost broke when she finally used his name.

“I don't like the prospect of having to break in a new one.” His voice has grown softer. Kira picked up kiln tiles, avoiding his eyes again.

Benjamin watched her as she started work on the kiln. “You have a job to do here, Major, and you're not doing it.” He had resumed his business-like tone, but his voice was anything but unkind.

“It's not that simple.” 

“I know.” There was a sadness in his sigh as he looked at her.

To her surprise he lifted a kiln brick into his hands, and began spreading cement on its underside. They placed the tiles for a few moments in quietness, the sunshine and gentle breeze bathing them in the illusion of tranquility as they built together.

“Look, I understand you're used to sympathizing with the underdog,” he murmured. “You've spent your life fighting to overcome impossible odds—just like he's doing. But you have to realize something, Nerys. You're on the other side now.”

He knew. Somehow he knew exactly what was so wrong about this whole situation. She pivoted to face him, still kneeling.

“Pretty uncomfortable, isn't it?” he sympathized.

“It's awful,” she whispered, raising her eyes to his.

He held her gaze, nothing but kindness and concern in his expression. Slowly he closed the distance between them.

“When I first met you, Nerys, I thought you were hostile and well, downright unreasonable. But I was wrong. Bajor needs you, and I need you. I-I have come to care about you very much…and I don't want you to be hurt.”

His eyes beseeched her. “So, as a friend—if nothing else—I'm here to remind you that Mullibok’s fate is already decided.” He set down the bricks and stood up straight again. “Yours isn't.”

She swallowed, following him up and waiting to speak until she was sure the tears gathering behind her eyes wouldn’t fall. “Thank you, Benjamin.”

He held out his hand to her then, and carefully cupped her cheek. She turned into his hand slightly, and his chest hitched. 

“There will be a runabout standing by,” he said softly. He waited for her nod. “One to beam up.”

And then he was gone. Kira just stood there, amazed that he hadn’t forced her to return with him, Mullibok and all. He had left it up to her, and he had apparently just given her as much time to decide as she wanted.

Next morning she destroyed everything—the kiln, the cottage, the crops—everything Mullibok refused to leave. It was time to move on with their lives, Mullibok’s _and_ hers. It was time to go home.


	5. If Wishes Were Forsaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remix of a scene from 1x16 If Wishes Were Horses (keeping the original dialog, just adding to it) mentioning canon events from 1 x 17 The Forsaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Julian gets a lot of flak for being so unrelenting in his pursuit of Jadzia early in the show's run, but I feel justified retconning it here somewhat, because it's canon in later seasons that Jadzia flat out told him she enjoyed it and didn't want him to stop. (It’s also canon that Dax-as-Ezri told Julian that if it were not for Worf, Jadzia would have dated Julian, so more than just enjoying his attentions, the attraction was/became mutual.) So it is absolutely my headcanon that Julian knew Jadzia was fine with it, and would have stopped had he ever thought he was making her uncomfortable.

“You know, Julian, for all you are always trying to get me to have dinner with you, I’m surprised you keep a lady waiting.” Dax’s coy smirk let him know she was only joking as he hurried into Quark’s, almost tripping over his own feet with his usual endearing ungainliness.

Julian clapped a hand to his chest in contriteness, his grin belying his seriousness. “I know, I know, you have my deepest apologies, milady.” He bowed a little at the waist. “I am a whole two minutes late.”

Dax, her eyes dancing, slid off her barstool and curtseyed coquettishly in response. “Busy day in the infirmary?”

Julian nodded then eyed her speculatively. “You know, if you really want me to make it up to you, I bet Quark has a holosuite available…”

“Hmm, tempting, but I have a shift in Ops soon.”

Julian made a noise of disappointment. 

She followed him to a table in the back, signaling for a waiter. “Don’t you need to get back if the infirmary is so busy?”

He shook his head. “Can’t right now. But if you hadn’t had a shift, you might have considered the holosuite?”

She was saved from answering by the waiter who showed up to take their order. Truth was, Jadzia could think of myriad fun things to do with the eager, adorable young doctor in a holosuite, but it would just be fun on her part, and if she gave him any encouragement she would only be leading him on and could end up breaking his heart – not exactly the best dynamic to set them up for a successful working relationship for the next however many years of being part of the station’s senior staff together.

Not to mention he was about to marry two of her best friends, also part of the senior staff – Dax could handle complicated relationships, but this…

Once the waiter left them alone again, Jadzia jumped in with a question of her own before Julian could go back to his holosuite invite. “What do you mean you can’t go back to the infirmary?”

“Oh.” He fiddled with the place setting. “I try to keep a consistent hour or two when there are just Bajorans staffing it. There are some station inhabitants who aren’t yet comfortable with non-Bajorans treating them. After my first few days here my nurses gently suggested I get lost for a predictable hour or so every day, so they could treat those who won’t come near the place when a Terran is around.”

Dax’s brow furrowed. “I had no idea. Is it still the anti-off-worlder sentiment do you think?”

He looked at her, dark green eyes piercing hers. “I wish that was all it was. I think it’s also that I’m an off-worlder male.”

She gave him a sympathetic look and just waited.

He sighed. “They are Bajoran women, and girls. Some of them comfort women I think, exiled from Bajor more or less. Or otherwise traumatized during the occupation.”

Dax’s mouth turned down. “Ah.”

“Yeah. I have some very well-trained nurses though, and we are working on getting Bajoran medics certified through Starfleet medical in the next year or two. They have excellent field triage and emergency surgery skills, but not so much in the way of formal training.”

“Decades under an occupation will do that, I guess.”

He nodded solemnly. Then making a visible effort to brighten things up he teased her about her choice of Klingon cuisine as the waiter brought them their meals.

She teased him right back and they settled into their familiar comfortable banter for the rest of the dinner. By the time the waiter cleared their plates and took their coffee order she could no longer contain her curiosity.

“So,” she began.

“So.” He looked at her, trepidation tightening his features.

“How is it going being engaged to Commander Sisko?”

His eyes widened. “Yes, thank you Jadzia, for putting it like that.”

She grinned. “That well, huh?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shrugged. “We haven’t exactly talked about anything beyond station business. I think he’s a little…uncomfortable around me right now.”

“And you?”

He blew out a breath. “I’d say the feeling’s mutual.”

It took all Jadzia’s willpower not to snort with laughter at the image of Benjamin and Julian squaring off, staring at each other in het panic at the idea of sharing a wife.

Julian scrubbed his hand over his face. “…But he did just give me the dubious honor of playing host to a delegation of four Federation dignitaries who arrive tomorrow.” He screwed up his mouth, showing just what he thought of the assignment.

Now it was Jadzia’s turn to boggle. “Oh no, not Ambassador Troi’s delegation?”

He nodded glumly. “All four of them ambassadors. I’ve heard they put them together because they can’t get along with anyone else.”

She smirked. “You heard right. Wow. I guess Benjamin wants to just throw you in at the deep end with the diplomacy part of an arranged marriage, huh?”

“Something like that. Or it’s an expression of how he really feels about having to share his future wife; a _hostile_ expression.”

Jadzia watched him closely. “And how do _you_ feel about that? Sharing her?”

She saw that now familiar guarded expression take over Julian’s features. He always became so buttoned up when she asked him about Kira, and yet she kept trying, in part because she was thoroughly charmed by this old-fashioned, chivalrous side to their young doctor that so few people glimpsed.

“Jadzia…you know _you_ are all I can think about.”

She smiled in defeat, sitting back. Okay, she would play this game. “I'm sure you're exaggerating.”

He affected his most earnest frown. “You are constantly in my thoughts. I can't even-”

The waiter brought their raktajinos just then. “That was two raktajinos, extra strong.”

They nodded their thanks.

“…I can't even concentrate.”

She suppressed a smile, delighted by his cheesy flirting. “You seemed to be concentrating just fine on the junior Lieutenant at the reception for Captain Stadius.”

He squirmed a little at that. “She was a poor substitute for you.”

“And the Betazoid envoy who was here last week?” Come to think of it, that had been over a week ago, and she hadn’t seen Julian seek any female company since Kira had proposed. 

“A barely adequate substitute for you,” he parried with a smile.

“And since then?” she asked casually.

“I have renounced all women except you, Jadzia, and my fiancée of course,” he pronounced glibly.

Jadzia raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of your fiancée, she did mention you are still free to date whoever you want?”

“She did.” His tone brooked no further comment and he shot a pointed look to the chronometer on the wall.

Following his gaze, Dax suddenly realized she had let the time get away from her and was due in Ops. She couldn’t resist a final shot though, She put on her best consoling voice. “Julian, you are a wonderful friend. I enjoy the time we spend together.”

He affected a wounded gasp. “Stop. You're driving a stake through my heart.”

“Try a high-pitched sonic shower. It'll make you feel better,” she tossed at him by way of a goodbye as she took her leave, grinning as she heard him loudly grumble at her retreating back.

“No it won't. I tried.”


	6. Territorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another scene from 1x16 If Wishes Were Horses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the delay in between updates, I've written a lot more, but not as yet the bridging scenes to actually get there!

Kira shook snow off her boots as she stepped tentatively into the infirmary. Julian and Dax were at the workstations, their screens showing virus models and star charts. They looked pre-occupied, but as soon as he saw her, Julian jumped up.

“Major! Oh…you got caught in the snowstorm too?” He ruffled his hair with a warm smile. Self-consciously Kira mirrored his movements and realized she had snowflakes in her hair too.

She gave her hair a vigorous brushing off and accepted a warm fluffy towel Julian magically produced from somewhere. “How is it going with the research?”

Jadzia screwed up her features. “Not great. How are things out there? The promenade still chaos?” She peered around her, eyes widening at the snow drifts. “Better be careful we don’t get snowed in!”

Kira nodded. “Poor Odo is trying to be everywhere at once. He keeps telling people off for using their imaginations.” She moved out of the way to let Jadzia past. 

Exclaiming in delight, the Trill dug her hands into a fresh pile of powdery snow slowly filling the doorway to the infirmary. “On the other hand, I can just _imagine_ the fun the three of us could have being snowed in together.” She winked at them gleefully.

Glancing at Julian, Kira caught him looking at her too, and quickly averted her eyes. She tried her best to keep him firmly in the ‘colleague’ box in her head. It didn’t help that his freshly rumpled hair made him look even more boyish than usual. _And adorable,_ her traitorous mind whispered unhelpfully. She swallowed hard and tamped it down. The last thing she needed was _her_ imagination to get carried away, not today.

She cleared her throat. “Is the…other Jadzia here?”

He grimaced. “Not right now, but she does keep…appearing.”

As if on cue, Dax’s voice cooed from the bio bed behind them, and Kira jumped. She was close enough to hear Julian mutter a soft curse under his breath, but she stepped back quickly when a woman identical to Jadzia insinuated herself between them, hanging onto Julian’s arm. There was no difficulty discerning which Dax was which, at least.

He dropped his face into his free hand and peeked apologetically at Kira through his fingers. Behind him, the real Dax sniggered, and headed back to her workstation as if Julian being molested right in front of her was no big deal.

The Dax who was draping herself all over Julian was playing with his hair, curling the soft tendrils behind his ear with her fingertips and scraping her fingernails lightly over his neck. Kira’s face flushed to watch them, and she swallowed down the strange feelings it awoke inside her to see another woman touch him so…intimately.

“So, uh, everything okay up in Ops?” Julian was trying as gently as he could to shake off the woman now clinging to him possessively. The ‘imaginary’ Dax looked back and forth between Kira and Julian, her eyes narrowing.

“I just wanted to check on you, see if you need any help,” Kira replied, lifting her chin to meet the other woman’s now decidedly cold stare.

Imaginary-Dax pouted as she drew herself up to her full six feet. “Who _are_ you to him?”

Kira opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came. She cast a glance to Julian but he looked similarly at a loss for words.

Jadzia leaned over, smiling coyly. “This is Major Kira, the station’s first officer, and Doctor Bashir’s fiancée.”

Imaginary-Dax’s eyes went round and her mouth fell open. “No! You can’t be! He’s mine, Julian loves _me_!”

Jadzia smirked. “Hmm…she is interestingly monogamous for having come from your imagination, Julian.”

“ _Jadzia,_ ” Julian muttered, his eyes moving to Kira.

Kira knew she should say something to clarify it was only an arranged marriage, and that Julian was of course free to see anyone he wanted, but she found she couldn’t manage it. Besides, Julian looked so supremely uncomfortable – had anyone even thought that whether she came from his imagination or not, the imaginary-Dax’s attentions seemed very much unwanted.

That decided her. “You are making him uncomfortable,” she said clearly, stepping closer, her tone clipped. “You touching him is that last thing he wants right now, whoever you are you are not welcome here.”

Imaginary-Dax froze in place, seeming to shrink in the face of Kira’s aggression. She squeaked in indignation, then vanished.

Julian’s sagged with obvious relief. Jadzia crowed with delight. “Don’t mess with the Major’s man!” She whistled sharply, shaking her head, her eyes full of laughter. “Wow, Kira, remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Kira risked a glance at Julian again. “I’m sorry, Jul—”

“Oh no, don’t be. That was…” He was still staring at her, something like amazement in his eyes.

Jadzia mumbled something that sounded like _territorial_ as she turned back to her workstation, still grinning from ear to ear.

Kira decided not to hear her, but she felt her face grow hot anyway. She had completely forgotten what she had come down here for. She spun on her heel. “Uh, I have to get back to Ops.”

As she hurried away from them she caught Jadzia asking Julian, “go on, finish what you were going to say?”

“Magnificent,” he breathed. 


	7. Medical Clearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the events of S01 Ep 18 Dramatis Personae, in which (per the episode summary online) _"Telepathic infection sets the crew into two factions fighting against each other, with Kira leading the mutiny [against Sisko and the Federation]...Bashir hints deviously at potential trouble between Kira and Sisko."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got stuck for months trying to work the events of Dramatis Personae into this AU—that level of violent mutiny would have had massive repercussions for these characters in canon, most especially for Sisko and Kira as they went head to head (not to mention he mercilessly beat up one of her Bajoran officers who refused to give up Kira’s whereabouts, and she came within an hair’s breadth of shooting Sisko dead). In syndicated 90s TV fashion they would breeze right past what that would have meant to the fragile nascent trust they had built between the Bajorans and the Federation. BUT it’s DS9 and ahead of its time in terms of actual story _arcs,_ so actually this was excellent lead up to the tensions that exploded just two episodes later at the end of S1.
> 
> But on a character level that’s a lot to come back from, and I have over 25k words written after that (even some actual consummation *gasp*) and someone on tumblr made my week by asking for more of this story, so I’m getting around this episode by having Kira infodumping the exposition in a WTF just happened hazy wake up the morning after. Forgive me the clunkiness!

It took several minutes for Kira to recognize the persistent beeping sounds that infiltrated one of the deepest sleeps she had had in ages. Finally she opened her eyes when she realized it was actually her alarm. She usually woke so early she didn’t need it, and she had to check the chronometer to make sure that was really the time.

She silenced the beeping and fell back in her bed. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, but a nagging sense of foreboding was threatening to ruin this nice fuzzy sleepiness.

“Computer, what time am I due in Ops today?”

 _“All senior staff are off duty until medically cleared before resuming duties,”_ the computer replied crisply.

Kira frowned and pressed her face into her pillow, not wanting to remember why. An image of her holding a disruptor on Benjamin came to her mind and she groaned. Everything came back to her in a rush – the fight with him to search the Valerian transport ship, his apparent nonchalance about the Valerians supplying weapons-grade dolamide to the Cardassians, tensions she had thought buried between her people and Benjamin’s suddenly coming to the fore so violently, and Julian coming to her side against Benjamin…it was still too much to process, she couldn’t let her mind go there.

She buried back under her blankets. Telepathic imprints of an ancient power struggle among a race known as the Saltah’na had led the station’s inhabitants to reenact a bloodthirsty mutiny that had claimed a Klingon ship. If it wasn’t for Odo studying the Klingon mission recorder and working with Julian to purge the telepathic energy spheres out a cargo bay door, she could have actually shot Benjamin. She sat up in bed and shuddered, not relishing the thought of facing him this morning.

She eyed the chronometer again. No, she definitely couldn’t go to Ops, and she didn’t feel like going near the infirmary either—besides it was silly to have to get medically cleared, that was so Starfleet and she prickled at their mother hen regulations. 

Her arms moved around herself as she remembered Odo’s actions yesterday, before anyone knew what was actually happening. He had placed himself between her and Benjamin, as protective and concerned as he had been in the early days of the Federation’s presence here (she tamped down the urge to label it an occupation, that was plainly ridiculous, and yet yesterday its accuracy had been crystal clear in her mind).

And so Kira found herself starting her day in Odo’s office, soothed by his mild manner as she sipped on a raktajino (he always made it just right). They went through the activity report somewhat half-heartedly. Much like when the station’s occupants’ imagination manifested themselves in the likes of snow drifts on the promenade, Rumpelstiltskin, and duplicate Jadzias, no one could really be held responsible for the turmoil and chaos caused by the telepathic infection. 

Not even her, she told herself, her fingers curling into a loose fist. She still couldn’t shake the sense memory of her hand wrapping tightly around the disruptor, and the clear-eyed certainty with which she trained it on Benjamin. She hadn’t had that much clarity of purpose since the resistance, and if she was being truthful, she missed it. Everything with the Federation was shades of grey and compromise.

“Have you seen Commander Sisko this morning?” Odo asked carefully, once they had given up on making any sense of the previous day’s violence and mayhem from a station security standpoint.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say to your fiancé after holding an energy weapon on him,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Ah.” Odo nodded sagely. “If it’s any consolation I think he’s embarrassed about being more concerned with building clocks than interdicting gun runners for the Cardassians.”

Her eyes narrowed at the memory. “Hmm. He was passionate enough when it came to standing up against a mutiny though.”

“That he was.” He looked at her steadily. “Are you…all right? After everything that happened?”

She nodded. “If he is, I guess.”

“He understands no one was in their right mind.”

“Except you.” She reached out and clasped his hand, squeezing it. “We would probably all be just as dead as those Klingons and the Saltah’na if not for you, Odo.”

He inclined his head modestly. “Just an advantage of very different physiology, I suppose,” he said gruffly.

“So how did you get Julian to help you then? Was he not as affected as the rest of us?”

“Oh he was, very much so. It was just a matter of directing his efforts into solving the mutiny by coming up with a cure. He was very motivated to do so when he saw what was happening between you and Sisko.”

He looked at her meaningfully. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “He wasn’t acting to hold the station for the Federation?”

Odo snorted. “He made a device to knock Sisko unconscious small enough for Ensign Tilyan to hide in the palm of his hand.”

“That’s what I walked in on in Ops? When Sisko was beating poor Tilyan almost to a pulp?”

“I gather the plan to render the commander unconscious was disrupted by Chief O’Brien, yes. Then Sisko laid into the ensign when he wouldn’t give you up.”

She dropped her head. “Why would Julian help us…he’s a Starfleet officer!”

“He was acting to keep you safe, Nerys,” Odo said gently. Mirroring her earlier gesture he took her hand in his, tentatively enclosing her fingers inside his palm. “If Julian was coming down on the side of the Bajorans, I believe it was to prevent harm from coming to you.” He tilted his head and his eyes looked sad somehow.

Kira hunched her shoulders in an awkward shrug, not sure what to say to that, or what to make of his expression. “I guess Julian thinks like a doctor, even when he’s not in his right mind.”

Odo stiffened suddenly. Kira sensed they were no longer alone, and turned just in time to see Julian himself come in the doorway of the security office. His eyes followed Odo’s hand as he retracted it from hers and straightened.

“Doctor.”

“Constable. Major. How is everyone doing this morning?”

She smiled sheepishly in greeting. “Still a little sleepy to be honest, even though I slept like a pugabeast who ate too many barrowbugs! Whatever you gave me last night really knocked me out.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his face broke into a smile, worry fading from his eyes. “Knocked all of us out, it had a strong anti-histamine component. We really did get ‘infected’ in a sense, by whatever that was. Kicked everyone’s immune system into overdrive.”

Odo stepped behind his desk. “You’ll be wanting to take the major to the infirmary so she can be cleared for duty, I imagine.”

Julian nodded. “I was wondering where you were.” He looked at Kira with a twinkle in his eye as if he knew rightly that she was avoiding him.

She blew out a breath. “Fine.”

She stood up to go, clutching her raktajino close. She was going to need a lot of caffeine this morning. 

Julian nodded to Odo. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her, constable. You’re a good friend to her.”

Kira leaned over and grasped the shape shifter’s hand. “The best.” She smiled up at him.

Odo just harrumphed. 

In in the infirmary there was a line of crew getting cleared for duty by several nurses; the place was bustling. Kira hesitated. She glanced up at Julian, realizing he had come to find her despite having a very busy morning.

“Want to come into my office?” He offered. “I can run a quick tricorder scan there and you can be on your way.”

“Please.” She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she followed Julian. “What did you say you gave us last night? What’s an anti-sis-tine something?”

“Anti-histamine. Okay if I close the door?”

She nodded, a yawn overtaking her.

He smiled, looking pleased, his shoulders relaxing as he watched her. Kira realized belatedly he was deferring to her on closing the door, checking to see if she was comfortable. Her sleepy yawns appeared to have reassured him. 

“An anti-histamine is a kind of allergy medicine that dials down an overactive immune response,” he continued without missing a beat as he ran the tricorder over her, nodding to himself. “Our systems were gearing up to fight the infection already. And then when I was able to shift it to a form that Odo could evacuate through the cargo bay doors, suddenly the source of infection was gone, but our bodies were still ramped up to fight it. The sleepiness side effects of an anti-histamine are nothing compared to what we would have gone through at the mercy of an overcharged immune system response.”

Kira settled herself on the couch, soothed by the familiar patter of Julian on a riff explaining something medical. “So you put everyone to sleep with hay fever medicine basically?”

He smiled widely, his cheeks dimpling. “Essentially. You have hay fever on Bajor?”

“Yeah, wish we’d had you around in threshing season. That stuff you gave me last night gave me the best night sleep I’ve had in ages.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Did you go back to your old quarters?” 

Kira got the distinct impression he was doing his best to make the question sound casual. “Umm, actually, I haven’t moved out yet.”

“Oh? I thought you mentioned you were going to try one night a week?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I was going to, for Jake, but…”

“Just not ready yet?” he probed softly when she fell quiet. 

She shrugged. She hadn’t planned on talking about this with anyone, she was still trying to process it herself. He came to sit beside her on the couch.

“Did something happen, Nerys?”

“No, not…exactly. Or at least not with Benjamin. Don’t you need to get back to work?”

Julian just waited. 

Kira stared down at her hands. She knew he would drop it if she asked, but it seemed silly to make a fuss. “When Benjamin moved his quarters, it was a major construction project, everyone on the station knew.”

Julian nodded. “As far as everyone was concerned though, it was just Sisko wanting to build a home for you and Jake. Then when they found out there was to be a ‘second’ that made sense of the scale of construction as well.”

“Right. I don’t mean they knew what started it – about his old quarters I mean.” She gave Julian a rueful look, and he touched his fingertips to her forearm in quiet support. She took a breath, his light touch leaving goosebumps. Being this close to him had more of an effect on her than she was ready to admit.

“So when it was finished, I think there was an expectation that as far as the Bajoran community here was concerned, that would be when we would begin our life together.”

“Oh. You mean…”

“Yes. There’s no notion of waiting until marriage for, uh, physical relations. In fact Bajorans would think that kinda crazy,” she admitted.

“It’s not exactly common in Terran cultures any more either, but it’s definitely not unheard of.”

“So, um, I was approached by a woman—actually by three of them but the other two didn’t say a whole lot, I think they were too shy, or uncomfortable, I don’t know.”

“Bajoran women?” Julian clarified.

“Yes.” She sat a little straighter, and looked down, overcome by the concern in his eyes. “Former comfort women.”

“Okay,” Julian said softly when she paused.

“They just wanted to help. They had medicines, ointments, and advice. They even offered to accompany me to talk to one of the Bajoran nurses. They have your schedule memorized, they know when you won’t be on duty.” She stopped, not wanting to violate their confidence.

“Yes, I know there are some of the station’s residents who feel more comfortable with Nurse Jabara or Nurse Hortak. That’s why I make sure I’m not here round the clock, but have a predictable daily absence.”

“Oh. I don’t think they even realize that.” Every day it seemed she found more about Julian that impressed her.

He touched her hand with his. “Can I ask…what kind of medication did they advise?”

“Uh, just numbing ointment, coagulants, something to staunch bleeding, pain pills...” Kira trailed off, Julian was looking slightly horrified. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to tell him about this.

“Nerys, Benjamin would never hurt you, not intentionally anyway.”

“No, I know, and I did say something like that to Rayla—she was the one who did most of the talking.”

Julian tilted his head. “Rayla San?”

“You know her?”

“I know of her. She’s a midwife – no formal training as I understand it, but she has attended a lot of births.”

“And a lot of half-Cardassian pregnancies,” Kira added. “She has helped a lot of women.”

He nodded soberly. “Did she not believe you that Benjamin would never be rough like a Cardassian?”

Kira bit her lip. She didn’t know much about the subject but it was clear her experience went beyond Julian’s from his simple assumption that an absence of violent intent would remove all the problems.

“I think,” she began, and then faltered. “It’s just…I think there are species differences, at least from what Rayla said, and-and if, um, if you can’t fully relax, well, it can makes things…difficult?”

Julian’s eyebrows had drawn down, and her heart ached for the pain in his eyes. She needed to stop talking about this, it was too awkward, and maybe it was better for him not to know. 

“It was just…they meant well, they assumed…no one knows, I guess, that I effectively have my own quarters with my own bedroom inside the new Sisko quarters, so it’s not like it even matters yet. And they spoke of drugs too, like for anxiety, and it just…freaked me out a little.” Kira reached for his hand and briefly intertwined their fingers. Just touching him like this calmed her, and alleviated his shell-shocked expression a little.

“I can talk you through the medicines they mentioned, if you think it will help. Hopefully you won't need that stuff,” he offered quietly but resolutely, keeping his voice even.

She shrugged, trying to ignore the flush in her cheeks. “I won’t, not before the wedding anyway.” She noticed his lips thinning and pressed his palm reassuringly before releasing him. She rushed on before he could start talking about Bajoran-Terran ‘relations’—she was not remotely ready to have that kind of conversation. 

“It’s not even the medicines…it was the way they talked about them, they had clearly been used to…whether as comfort women, or, uh, forced in other ways, this was…these ointments and…they were a normal part of their life under the occupation.”

Julian was watching her intently. She paused to take a breath and tried for a smile, hoping to extricate them from this conversation before it got any more awkward. “It’s a whole world of women taking care of other women, trying to ease the pain and distress of having to…with Cardassians. I never knew…I mean, I knew it happened, obviously, but for it to be a daily part of their existence…something they took into account, even planned for…” 

She dropped her eyes and shook her head. In some ways it was easier to talk about others, to keep the bad guy as Cardassians, but it still hurt her heart to think about what those women went through. “That must have been part of what kept them alive.” She fell silent. 

After a moment, Julian commented softly. “I imagine it also helped keep them sane – the camaraderie with the other women. Is that what Rayla was offering, do you think?”

Kira nodded. That was what she had meant, but she realized for a doctor he had maybe taken “kept them alive” to mean stopped bleeding or something more direct—which until the conversation with Rayla would have been her first thought too. In the resistance they had many years of emergency medical skills under their belt and they exchanged anecdotes of survival based on hard enough pressure on a wound or a creatively improvised tourniquet. They passed along potentially life-saving knowledge in this way, much as the comfort women shared their medicines and advice, and reached out to each other as a way to survive. 

“I think a lot of comfort women killed themselves, if they weren’t murdered by their keepers that is.” Her mouth twisted bitterly.

Julian shifted in his seat. “I thought…wouldn’t a Cardassian have to be a fairly high rank to keep a comfort woman? Would that not have resulted in censure if they killed her?”

She almost rolled her eyes. Did he really think Cardassians valued Bajoran lives? “Probably brushed it off as a minor inconvenience, an accident, a casualty of her- her job.”

“And you aren’t ready to be a part of their world,” he finished for her, his voice quietly grim. He brushed his hand over her arm again, sympathy in his eyes.

“I guess…not.” Shame washed over her. She was taken aback that he understood, and that he wasn’t trying to point out how her situation was different. 

He carefully moved closer until their shoulders were touching, his eyes hooded and ever watchful in case he made her uncomfortable. She slipped her hand inside his, gaining a measure of peace from his gentle touch. 

“It’s not like anyone gave them a choice though, not a real one,” she continued. “I used to think comfort women were collaborators. And that if it were me I would just choose death over…that, but Rayla told me a lot of them did it to keep their loved ones alive, sometimes their husbands or their children even. I can't imagine having to make a choice like that.” She shuddered and tightened her hold on Julian’s hand.

“It’s not really a choice at all.” His eyes met hers, full of sadness. “Do you think the mortality rate was high or were the women just disappeared, squirreled away in the corners of outposts like DS9?”

“I’m not sure. I hate to say this but I hadn’t given it a lot of thought before I met Rayla. I know they were not treated well back on Bajor.”

“I mean,” Julian frowned a little and Kira could almost see his mind working. “…The sex acts, while undoubtedly awful, weren’t life threatening. Would you mind if I research it a little?”

“Julian…”

He shifted his body to face hers. “I might be able to put your mind at ease,” he murmured hopefully. “Or there could be vulnerabilities and risk factors I’m not taking into account—you said Rayla mentioned coagulants and it’s definitely true that Bajorans bleed easily, which would be exacerbated if undernourished, more prone to infection, less able to fight it off. Or if they took a lot of anxiolytic meds then what looked like suicide could in fact be accidental overdoses – either by the women themselves or the Cardassians.” 

His voice grew fainter as he mumbled to himself. Kira caught something about “offset therapeutic ranges making them more susceptible to overdoses” and how he had taken that into account when dosing out the anti-histamine. She tuned him out when he started on about lower clinical thresholds, titration, and lipid protein layer permeability. A new wave of tiredness swept over her and she rubbed her eyes again.

He cleared his throat and looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Nerys. I’m babbling. I just want to bring you some peace about all this, if I can.”

She placed her free hand on top of his where he was clutching her other hand, and found herself smiling despite herself. He was so earnest, and he was already bringing her so much comfort. 

“I know, Julian.” Her hand moved of its own volition to cup his face. “And I love you for it.”

She froze. Had she really just said that? Tiredness and an overwhelming sense of affection had lowered her reserve. 

His eyes grew round. She bit the inside of her cheek. His lips parted, and panic rose in her chest, her heart thumped painfully. “Julian, you…you don’t…don’t…” _Don’t say anything._

She swallowed, her mouth having gone dry. “I have to go,” she whispered, detangling their hands and beating a hasty retreat out of the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think thematically this needs to be a new story in this series, but for now I am tacking it on as new chapter(s) until I can futz with it and edit it (I'm forever indebted to anyone who can help with the typos and grammar problems!) 
> 
> Thanks to anyone still sticking with me. We're on covid19-related reduced staffing at work so while I wish it were under different circumstances, I am euphoric to get some more writing time -- I lost my part time schedule shortly after NaNoWriMo and have been forced to go full time since then, along with a longer commute :( so I apologize for the related drop in frequency of updates.


	8. Tentative Bonds

Kira folded her arms as she walked along the promenade, doing her best to ignore the strange looks people were giving her. She reminded herself the attention was because of the events of yesterday, and not because they could see right through her and know she had just admitted her feelings to her second intended, despite promising him during the proposal that this could be a marriage in name-only—if that was what he wanted.

But _was_ it what he wanted? Kira shrugged off her discomfort with that question – it wasn’t hers to answer; it was up to Julian. But perhaps because of the similarities with her own situation she was keenly attuned to making sure he didn’t get pushed into more than he wanted. So young, so inexperienced, he had been railroaded into so much more than he had signed up for here – coming out to the ‘farthest reaches of the galaxy’ – this _wilderness_ – to get his feet wet with frontier medicine, and suddenly he’s trapped in a political marriage.

The conversation with Julian had taken such an unexpected turn it left her feeling exposed. If she would have had the presence of mind to pass it off as a figure of speech she could have maybe walked it back, but her reaction coupled with fleeing so quickly afterwards had to have cemented the truth of her words. 

She nodded at Odo where he was standing in the doorway of his office. Her feet slowed to a stop at the concern in his eyes, and she wondered if her face was betraying her turmoil. 

“Everything all right, Major?”

She nodded. “I’m cleared for duty. At least I think so, we got so sidetracked that we never actually got as far as Julian saying as much.”

Odo raised an interrogative eyebrow.

She sighed, and lowered her voice. “I mentioned getting a good night’s sleep, and he asked if I had moved in with the Siskos yet.”

“Ah.” His expression softened. “Did you tell him?”

She nodded sheepishly. Odo was the only one who knew she was still in her old quarters, apart from Benjamin and Jake obviously.

“Did he…give you a hard time?” Odo’s eyes darkened.

“No, not at all. But I think he was surprised.” She didn’t mention Rayla and her friends to Odo. They were close, but she knew him and any mention of intimacy just made him uncomfortable.

“There’s no rush, Nerys.” His expression gentled.

She swallowed, unaccustomed to this tenderness from Odo of all people.

“Perhaps you should get some more rest before you begin your shift,” he suggested. She really must look like a basket case.

She nodded. “I might. I wanted to check on one of your deputies first though—”

“Ensign Tilyan? The one who got into fisticuffs in Ops with Commander Sisko yesterday?”

Kira closed her eyes for a moment, reliving the scene she had come upon in Ops, Benjamin screaming at the poor man to give her up, and assaulting him violently when Tilyan refused. “Yes. Do you know if he’s doing okay?”

“He’s fine.” Odo checked his log. “He’s back at work overseeing a shipment in cargo bay two right now.”

She thanked Odo and headed to the cargo bays, grateful in some sense to have something to do that didn’t involve facing Sisko just yet. She was also glad to see the young man looking none the worse for wear, despite what he had been through. If she hadn’t fired a warning shot at them, who knows what Benjamin would have done to Tilyan – and all because he wouldn’t give up Kira’s location. The resistance produced loyalty like that, he would not have betrayed his Bajoran major to an off-worlder no matter how hard Sisko hit him.

“Ensign.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

He grinned at her, looking a little surprised, and abashed by the attention. “Major.” He stood a little straighter, and his fellow security officers waved him off to talk with her. They walked a little ways away from the others.

“I’m just fine thank you, ma’am. That Federation doctor is a wonder – it’s like yesterday never even happened!”

Her smile widened in relief. Not only was he apparently not suffering any ill effects, but there was no trace of ill-will towards her Federation husband to be – or her for having organized the mutiny in the first place. She could only hope the rest of her crew were of a similar mind.

“Did you know the commander came to see me last night?” Tilyan continued.

“He did?”

“Wanted to apologize, make sure I was okay.”

Kira drew a breath, impressed that Benjamin had thought to do that. She had been so wiped out it had been all she could do to stumble back to her quarters after Julian had given her the hay fever meds. He wasn’t even going to let her go at first, until Odo had offered to make sure she made it safely to bed.

“And you _are_ okay, Ensign?”

His smile turned a little sheepish. “Tell you the truth, Major, it was almost a relief to get in a fist fight, to blow off steam. Once Starfleet took over, this place is all meetings and training and ship manifests,” he held out the PADD in is hand as an example, “and writing reports and talk talk talk. I almost miss scrapping in the hills with Cardassians.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Kira confessed with a wry smile, her voice dropping low so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“But I tell you what, Major, I don’t miss being banged up and broken in the corner of a cave for days or weeks waiting to get better after a scuffle though. Your Federation doctor would have come in useful back then!”

His tone was light but his eyes were watching her carefully when he said _your_ Federation doctor. Kira caught her breath. Had it had got around about the identity of her second, or it was just a guess on Tilyan’s part? 

She swallowed. “He’s going to be the second,” she said forthrightly, happy to note she was able to keep her voice from trembling. After everything he had been through yesterday because of her, Tilyan deserved the truth.

His eyes went wide. “Is that…Major, can I tell people? My boyfriend, he thought for sure it was Bashir, but you didn’t want to tell anyone?”

“They kept it a secret at my request because I am still trying to process having a second off-worlder husband,” she admitted. It sounded silly now she stated her reasons out loud. She took a steadying breath. “But I don’t mind if you want to tell people.”

“He is a good man, Major.” Tilyan looked like he wanted to ask her more, but was reluctant to overstep.

She nodded. “Yes, he is.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’m glad you are recovered Tilyan. I won't forget what you did for me.”

“None of us will forget yesterday,” Tilyan said simply and quietly. “We will always have your back.”

Startled at the intensity in his eyes, Kira blinked. “They…they aren’t our enemies, Ensign.”

“I know, Major. But they aren’t Bajoran either now, are they.” He kept his voice down but there was no question in it. “And we won't forget what you are doing for us, marrying them. It’s obvious you have no love for any occupying force, but right from the start they drove the Cardies away when they came to stake a claim on the celestial temple.”

She had gotten so used to the Federation referring to the celestial temple as simply a wormhole it took her a moment to follow what Tilyan was saying. Her mind was reeling from all the implications of his words.

“I, um, thank you, Tilyan.” She softened the dismissing tone of her words with a smile of genuine gratitude.

Tilyan gave her a salute, but not a formal Bajoran militia salute, instead it was a more subdued resistance signal. Then he was gone, and she was left staring after him.

Kira marched the full circumference of the habitat ring, trying to clear her head, passing by the door to her quarters. She wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now. How naïve had she and Odo been, to think an attempted mutiny could just be swept under the carpet? Would the influence of the Saltah’na spheres even have been able to take hold if the underlying tensions hadn’t been just under the surface all along? How deep did the cracks run in the tentative bond between Bajor and the Federation?

Were they all fools to think this fragile alliance could actually work?

Finding herself standing outside the door to Benjamin and Jake’s new quarters, Kira bit her lip. Was her resistance to moving forward with the unifying event of a marriage between her people and the Federation contributing to the Bajoran’s difficulty in acclimatizing to Starfleet’s presence here? She knew without a doubt that a spiritual union between the Emissary and a Bajoran bride would fundamentally change how Bajorans viewed the Federation. They would feel enfranchised, and see Starfleet as less of an interloper and more of an ally. You couldn’t _occupy_ Bajor if you _became_ Bajoran.

But would it matter to an atheist Federation? She doubted that her marrying the commander would make a difference to Starfleet, except maybe to the mindset of the Federation citizens who lived on the station – but then after yesterday it was exactly the Federation inhabitants of the station they needed to win over. If they were wed instead of fighting each other for control she believed the positive impact could change everything around here. People on both sides had nearly killed each other yesterday. How much longer could they delay?

 _It’s not really a choice at all._ Julian’s words came back to her. And much like a comfort woman, she couldn’t keep dragging her heels and making her reluctance known. The more this marriage resembled a real bond, the more it would help her people. Tilyan had spoken as if the perception was she was doing this against her will, and she couldn’t blame them—she had conveyed the truth of that from the start, fearing being seen as some kind of collaborator.

She tried the door to the quarters that were hers alone. It opened smoothly. Kira dug her nails into her palms and stepped inside. 

The door swooshed closed behind her and she looked around what would be her new living room. It was quiet, clean, and empty of any sign of life, and so welcoming because of what it was _not:_ nothing in here was Cardassian. The scent of the wooden furniture and fixtures made it even smell like a Bajoran farmhouse. 

She ran a hand over the sturdy farmhouse table. Everything looked just like it had when Sisko had shown her around, except now the doors were finished. She had been so touched at the time, he had put so much effort into pleasing her. Now the peacefulness of these rooms was like a balm to her soul, evidencing a much different man than the one who had beaten up Ensign Tilyan. 

But it didn’t matter. It was irrelevant if he wanted to show her gentleness, or beat her too. She wasn’t marrying him based on who he was, but rather what he was—the envoy of his people, a people who Bajor needed to block the Cardassians from coming back. The Cardassians were not gentle, that wasn’t in question, so she had to stop acting like she had the choice to refuse him.

She rested her hand on the wooden door knob leading to her bedroom, then turned the key, hearing tumblers from the double deadbolt glide and click into place before it opened. She and Odo had not yet gotten to the bottom of Julian’s idea for doors with handles, that opened on hinges – they were unheard of on starbases, but she liked the feel of it, solid, lockable, and under her control rather than the swish of automatic sliding doors.

Her new bedroom was similarly in the style of Dahkur province housing. Simple, beautiful, and after so much time cooped up in caves or among unforgiving Cardassian architecture, she could finally breathe. A thin plain weave fabric diffused the glow from the bedside lamps, and when she sat on the bed only the smooth softness of the crisp white bedding broke the illusion that she was in fact back on Bajor. She had never known luxury like this growing up.

A muffled bang made her jump up and her hand went automatically to her hip, but she was still alone in her quarters. It came again and she heard Jake’s raised voice yelling enthusiastically. She blinked – sound so rarely carried through walls on a space station, but here with the Bajoran construction she was aware of Jake in his quarters. She left her bedroom and went back out to her living area. The adjoining door allowed about as much sound through as if this was an actual farmhouse, she realized.

She went to the door and rested her fingertips on the handle. It was locked, the key on her side preventing access from anyone on the other side unless she unlocked it or took the key out of the lock. She turned the key and at the same time knocked on the door, feeling a little awkward.

“Jake?”

“Nerys!”

She came into the Sisko’s leaving room just as Jake bounded off the couch, PADDs clattering to the floor around him. She returned his wide smile, marveling how she had seen him just a couple of days ago but he seemed taller every time. He was just a few inches shy of getting taller than her.

He flew into her arms for a hug, which she enthusiastically returned, unable to resist ruffling his hair.

“Are you moving in? Today?”

She wasn’t ready for that question, so she hedged. “You’re alone here?”

“Dad’s on duty.”

“What are you working on?” She indicated the PADDs that littered the floor.

“Uh…it’s supposed to be Latin roots. But dad’s not much of a homeschooler, he didn’t even notice I’m learning the same set of declensions as I have been for weeks now.” He smirked conspiratorially at her.

She smiled, she had no idea what Latin was, but she was struck by how much time the boy was spending alone. Her eyes moved over his discarded PADDs, games active on most of them.

“You’re hanging out here all day on your own?”

He shrugged. “Dad said he will try to be back for lunch, and Nog and I are going to meet later when he’s done with his shift at Quarks. See what kind of trouble we can get into!”

She frowned. Children running wild with even less supervision than during the resistance, and working in bars. After her mother died there were lots of other adults in their community who had taken them in when her dad was busy with his resistance fighting. What they really needed here on DS9 was some kind of structure for kids like Jake. Benjamin could hardly watch Jake all day while he was supposed to be running the station, and he was far from being the only single parent around here, the occupation had seen to that in many ways. But the difference was, Bajoran parents pooled their resources and watched each other’s kids while they were at work. She had designed the station’s shift schedule to accommodate that. 

If she and Benjamin were married she felt sure that safety net would be extended around Jake too – and give him some of the company and supervision he needed at his age. With luck, as the barriers broke down between Federation and Bajorans on the station then other Federation kids could be included too.

Guilt tugged at her. She should be living here, not hiding on the other side of the habitat ring--and why? Because comfort women had unsettled her when they were only trying to help? She hoped Tilyan’s frank reaction had put paid to the notion of comparing herself to comfort women – they had been reviled in the occupation, but Tilyan conveyed a sentiment from Bajorans of nothing but gratitude and respect. 

So at least in the eyes of her people her position invoked a sense of dignity and sympathy, not condemnation. The clerics and council of ministers had tried to instill this in her when there were persuading her to accept the role of Bajor’s bride, but she had dismissed it at the time. Was that a part of why Rayla’s words of advice had so disturbed her? Not just because they prefigured intimacy with an off-worlder that she would have to go through, but also because she was being inducted into such a stigmatized role?

She shook off her misgivings. “What’s Latin?” she asked Jake.

He made a dismissive noise. “Some old language that’s so dead no one even knows how it’s pronounced. And even if anyone was alive did speak it, any universal translator has it.”

She pondered that for a moment. “Why would the universal translator carry a dead language in its memory banks?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Latin underlies 80% of the most commonly spoken Earth languages, including Federation standard,” he recited. “And medical and scientific terms, I guess.”

She smiled at his nonchalant tone. “Sounds pretty important then.”

“Dad thinks it looks good on your transcript when you put in your application for Starfleet Academy. Don’t tell him but I might not even go to the academy.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone.

“I won’t tell him,” she promised, her heart aching for this young boy, clearly lonely. “Jake?”

“Uh huh?”

“Are you ready for me to move in here?” she gestured behind her where the adjoining door led to her rooms.

His whole face lit up. “YES.”

She laughed. “Okay. Then so am I. And maybe your dad and I can stagger our shifts a little.” She stopped short of saying it was so one of them would be there to make Jake breakfast and the other home in time for dinner. She couldn’t guarantee anything like that until station operations ran a lot smoother than they had been recently. But they could at least try.

“Whatever.” Jake shrugged. 

She came to join him on the couch. “Can you teach me something in Latin?”

“Why would you even want to?” he snorted, in what she was quickly coming to recognize as his young-teen bravado.

“So I can impress your dad?”

He reached for a PADD and nodded slowly, his smile growing. “Okay then.”

She rubbed his back and they looked at the screen together.


	9. Timepiece

Feeling a little self-conscious, Kira stepped tentatively into Benjamin’s office later that morning, her heart thumping in her chest.

He sat behind his desk, watching her carefully. There was no censure in his eyes, just a softness. He proffered a faint smile.

She broke eye contact, too uncomfortable under his probing gaze. Instead she gestured to the new contraption on his desk. “You really build that?”

“Apparently so.” His voice was carefully even.

“Why?”

“I have no idea.” His eyes smiled again, encouraging her to keep going.

Her chest tightened and she pressed her fingernails into her palms. “I know that none of us was really responsible for our actions, but I feel like I owe you an apology.”

“For attempted mutiny?” he asked strangely calmly.

“Well, yes.”

“I think we'll let it go. This time.” He smiled, and Kira returned it, her stomach unclenching.

She nodded at him and turned to leave when he spoke again.

“I owe you a few apologies of my own.”

She took a breath. “I just heard from Dax what happened to the Valerians.”

He grinned wolfishly. “They won’t be supplying _anything_ to the Cardassians, or anyone else, for quite some time.” He touched a fingertip to the alien timepiece, setting it going and gazing at it. “Sit with me?” 

She sat down opposite him, her eyes drawn to the strange clock (if you could call it that) with its rhythmic back and forth circular motion.

“I am sorry, Nerys,” he added softly. “I put you through a lot yesterday.”

She shrugged awkwardly. “I almost killed you. Call it even?”

His smile reappeared. “You have quite the aim with an energy weapon.”

They lapsed into silence. His hands went back to the timepiece, smoothing the gilded edge with delicacy. His hands were so large, and yet adept and gentle as he righted the smaller golden disc where it was slightly out of sync. 

The same hands that had so soundly beaten Ensign Tilyan less than a day ago. His knuckles were scraped up – he could have had Julian fix them but maybe he just hadn’t gotten around to it. _It’s doesn’t matter,_ she reminded herself firmly. It’s not as if the Bajoran men who she had been with were any strangers to violence either. _But those were Cardassians suffering at their hands, not loyal Bajorans,_ a traitorous voice whispered in her head.

She shook herself and drew a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to move into your quarters.”

His eyebrows rose and he barked a laugh. “Really? That’s all it took – casually disregard gun runners, stop you from arresting them in defense of Bajor, rough up your officers, get into a battle for control of the station…and now you are moving in?” His grin was wide and his eyes slightly manic.

Smiling now too but feeling more than a little off-balance, Kira inclined her head. “That is, if you think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s a brilliant idea,” he declared decisively. “Do you want help to move your things?”

“Jake is going to help me. I spoke with him this morning, he’s on board too.”

Benjamin snorted in laughter again. “He’s only been asking me every morning and night when you’re going to be moving in with us. You better believe he’s on board.”

All this time, and Benjamin had never mentioned Jake was even bringing it up. Was he trying to keep from putting any pressure on her? She watched him, he had gone back to fiddling with the timepiece.

“I could make dinner for us tonight, if you like?” he mentioned casually. “To celebrate you moving in?”

“I-I’d like that.” And she knew Jake would love it. Besides, if there was any awkwardness afterwards she could truthfully say she was still dragging from Julian’s hay fever meds, and have an early night.

His eyes flicked to hers. “If it’s too soon…”

“No, of course not.”

He regarded her. “As it’s the first night, I would like to invite Julian too. But not the whole crew, just you and me, Jake of course, and Julian.”

She nodded firmly and smiled at him. “That’s a good idea.”

It did things to her that Benjamin wanted Julian included right from their first night as a new household. She decided it was a very good sign that he was more open to the idea of a polyamorous marriage than she had believed. “Can you issue the invitation though?”

“Of course.” His tone was curious but she couldn’t find a way to say she didn’t want to approach Julian so soon after making a fool of herself in front of him already today.

She tried to think of something else to say in case he gave voice to his curiosity. “Benjamin?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes focused on hers. “You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“What’s with the doors? In your new quarters?”

“In _our_ new quarters,” he chided her with a warm smile. He spread his hands. “I honestly don’t know. I mean, other than farmhouse authenticity, but Bashir seemed too insistent for it just to be that.”

“You didn’t ask him why?”

“I did. He said I should have a conversation with Shakaar.”

That brought her up short. “ _Shakaar?_ Shakaar Edon?”

“That’s right. I have been meaning to, but we’ve been a little busy around here. I still haven’t met the man.”

She looked down. “Um, he’s not exactly in favor of the whole arranged marriage thing.”

“Prylar Latha said he has been a father to you. Raised you.”

“In the resistance. I suppose that’s true.”

“He means a lot to you, Nerys?”

She nodded. “For so many years he and our little cell were all I had.” She looked at him, concerned to see hope in his eyes. “But, Benjamin, they don’t get along with the provisional government, and they don’t want the Federation anywhere near Bajor. It might be better to save that meeting until after the wedding is over.”

“Kira…that’s a year from now at least.”

She shook her head. “It might not…be prudent to wait so long. Look at what happened yesterday.”

“Nerys—”

She pushed on before she could lose her nerve. “We have to assume it’s possible we have to go through with it sooner if things come to a head.”

“And you would be okay with that?”

She lifted her shoulders. “It’s not really a choice, or at least that’s how Julian put it.”

The look in her eyes made her instantly regret her words. _Wrong answer, Nerys._ From now on, no more equivocating. If she was going to do this then she was going to do it gladly, for Bajor. Comfort women didn’t save their husbands and kids by letting their reluctance be known, after all.

He looked like he was about to say something, so she rushed on. “But yes, I am very much okay with that.” Her tone was firm and she stood up, squaring her shoulders. “Jake and I are going to meet at the replimat so I can get him a snack before he helps me move my stuff. You need me in Ops?”

“No, I can handle it, things are quiet.” Benjamin stood up too. “Why don’t I wrap up here and join you guys for lunch after? That way if you need any furniture moved around or anything I can be of assistance?”

 _And the whole station will see we have reconciled from nearly killing each other._ She met his eyes with a wry smile. “Meet you on the replimat at 1230?”

“Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> MANY thanks for reading!
> 
> I am once again indebted to the archived episode scripts http://www.st-minutiae.com/resources/scripts/416.txt and transcripts http://www.chakoteya.net/DS9/416.htm for facilitating me lifting verbatim chunks from canon :)


End file.
